


Steal Away

by joelhole



Category: Funhaus RPF, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Sorry Not Sorry, This has become extremely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joelhole/pseuds/joelhole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(when james was a child he certainly never dreamt of growing up to be a law-breaking criminal who lived with and fucked six other dudes on a daily basis. but, kid james had wanted to be a velociraptor. kid james was obviously an idiot. adult james was - well, also an idiot - but in love and stupidly happy. adult james wouldn’t have it any other way.)</p><p>It all begins with Sean Poole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (MY SANITY)

**Author's Note:**

> This WILL be OT7, and heavily James-centered. It will end up being (at least in part) a GTA au, but hopefully not like anything you’ve read before. I take a lot of inspiration from the IG channel and from some Funhaus vids, but this is not biographical by any means. It’s derivative from their stories and personalities, sure, but with any fanfic there are certain purposeful deviations that I hope you’ll bare with. This includes backgrounds, age, so on and so forth.  
> Tags will be added as they become applicable.
> 
> Eventually this will be explicit, for both violence and sex, but for now the most you have to worry about is language..

Of all places, James met Sean Poole at a gym.

The kid had obviously been out of place; a short and thin boy, with the pale complexion of someone who doesn’t spend enough time outdoors. He had been wearing an obnoxiously, overly large red trucker hat that would have looked douchey if it weren’t for the timid man - just a boy, really - that hid beneath it. And jeans. The kid was wearing jeans to a gym. As soon as he had stepped through the double doors into the main expanse of the gym, it became clear that he had just treaded into the deep open waters of physical fitness and had no inclination of the buffed up sharks waiting eagerly within for the smallest hint of weakness.

Why the boy decided to go alone to a strange gym in West Hollywood, of all places, was beyond James’ inclination, but that didn’t mean he was going to let the poor guy stay adrift.

“First timer, huh?”

The poor thing jumped, startled, as James approached him. The stranger had been edging his way around the rows of occupied equipment and had been about to pass where James was standing, taking a water break.

“Is it that obvious?” The reedy voice drawled slowly - jesus christ, even his voice spoke of an adolescent, barely world-ready child. Seriously, someone that sounded this young sounding had to still be living with his parents while he skipped class to play games all day and munch on doritos and instant ramen.

“No, not really,” James intoned politely, before smirking. “As long as you ignore the whole deer-in-headlights, knee knocking thing you have going on.” He smiled more genuinely. “Not really the look of the regulars here.”

“Ye-yeah, I’m not really a muscle-y type.” The stranger stuttered out, his mouth morphing into a small smile of his own. “Obviously.”

James laughed and shook his head. “Working out isn’t just about muscle tone! Everyone has their own definition of healthy living,” he held out a hand. “James Willems; I’m a part-time staffer here so I’m not creepily approaching you. This is a hundred percent official non-pedophile gym condoned support.”

“Pedophile?”

“Um yeah, you look like, twelve years old.”

“I’m twenty-two!”

“And I’m twenty-five but you still look twelve dude. Thems the breaks.”

This caused the baby-faced stranger to sputter in indignation, a warm flush rising in his cheeks as he stumbled over a rather poor attempt to defend his honor.

James just rolled his eyes and waved his hand a bit. “Come-on dude. You got a name or am I just going to have to start calling you ‘that one kid who looks like an abandoned puppy’ in my head for the rest of time? Because I totally will.”

“I have a name!” The kid had turned tomato red at this point, but that’s belied by the grin he shared with James. He took James’ hand. “My name is Sean, Sean Poole.”

 

And it really was that simple as that. The day ended with Sean keeping James company while he worked on his routine, Sean not enthusiastic about actually working up a sweat. But it was fun. Gentle teasing turned into friendly banter, which in turn became a solid companionship. A little tantrum, an overly loud “Just WHAT does it take to get a guy’s NUMBER around here?” and James leaves with an embarrassed Sean’s number in his phone.

It’s a little gratifying to James when he found out that he wasn’t completely off on the whole “plays video games all day” assessment. Sean Poole turned out to be a video editor by day, Twitch streamer by night. After their first meeting, it’s not all too uncommon for the two of them to spend their nights chatting on steam.

If James and Sean spend those nights bickering the hits and misses of owning a console versus pc gaming, well, that’s just another new routine.

They also see each other at the gym.

Sean by no means became a regular. The guy hadn’t even known that gyms required a membership - what a child - but James hadn’t been lying when he told the kid that he was a member of the staff. He was working as a part-time yoga instructor, who had taken up the position at this local gym once he realized that his full-time job security was at risk. As a college graduate with a degree in video production, he had lucked out to get a behind-the-camera job straight out of graduation at a fledgling television company. It had taken years for James to work his way up through the ranks to get into the actual production arena, but by that point the station was going under and layoffs were inevitable.

As an obvious ‘muscle-y type,’ James had been attending the same local gym three days a week since his late teens. The staff was more than sympathetic to his troubles, and had felt comfortable in offering James a position that started as once-monthly private instruction and had now increased to bi-weekly taught courses.

James was very much aware of his shoulder to waist ratio, and if that helped bring men and women alike flocking to sign up for his classes, well, he felt no shame in flaunting that to his benefit.

His popularity both as a gym regular and now as an instructor granted him a lot of leeway with the owner of the facilities, and as such he was able to swing a guest membership for Sean, that was really just used as a ‘hey come hang out during my yoga sessions because it's all rote by now so no one really needs me except for the newbie here and there, i’m really just there to look pretty and allow people to check out my ass for an hour.”

This also coming with the knowledge that  Sean stared at his ass whenever he instructed the class through a halfway lift. It’s a very nice ass.

The continued this way for a month - regular gaming sessions while Sean would attend one of James’s classes each week, not actually taking part in the process but sitting to the side, snarking at James whenever he passed the boy while making his rounds throughout the attendees. James had found the sass extremely adorable because Sean was always brimming with confidence and ended up more often than not laughing at his own comments, even if they were the most idiotic and silly things. Seriously. He once made a joke comparing James to a Wetzel’s Pretzels that had the hat-wearing boy in near tears from laughter. It was nice though, having support - sarcastic and teasing as it often was - along with an easy banter that James hadn’t found all too often as of late.

James had never considered himself lonely, before Sean, but he had realized that he had certainly been alone.

These once weekly meetings soon turned into twice, and then three, and soon enough the two were hanging out nearly daily. It came to be when Sean had stuttered an adorable invitation to lunch one day after a morning yoga session, which had James laughing fondly. Pausing on his way to the changing room, James turned to pat now-pink boy gently on the cheek.

“I would love to,” he started. “But, well, I’m kind of stretched for money at the moment so I don’t eat out. “ Before Sean could look too dejected he quickly added, “Ask anyone here and they’ll tell you. I usually just spend my lunch breaks doing my personal routine and getting my workout protein groove on.”

“You eat sack lunches, healthy sack lunches, at a gym for lunch and you make fun of me? You can’t eat carrot sticks and pretend to be an adult, asshole.”

James smirked. “Dude you’re wearing jeans. To a gym.”

“So-”

“You wear a Simpson’s themed hat three sizes too big for your head, six days a week.”

“And somehow I manage to be more mature than you.”

“Keep dreaming, Milhouse.”

“Please, obviously I’m more of a Lisa.” Sean drawled in that lethargic drawl he so often used.

“Now I know you must be as high as you look, because obviously your perception is impaired. Obviously.” James laughed. “You may be on to something though, you’re much more of a Maggie than a Lisa.”

“Haha yeah I’m such a child, stop recycling jokes James.”

"I was thinking more along the lines that she was a badass and a bit of a savant type character, but if you want to admit to being a chibi i won’t stop you.” Sean threw a weak punch at James’s shoulder, growling a feeble “Fuck you!” that was partly half-hearted deflection but mostly breathless giggly glee.

“I’ll just have to bring lunch here, then.”

That caused James to pause in his attempts at tugging Sean’s hat further down over his face teasingly. “ Despite the glorious view it provides. I know it’s already boring enough sitting in on my classes, so don’t force yourself. Not when you can stare my ass any time you want baby.” James arches his eyebrows in a leer as Spoole’s face, that had previously dulled from the tomato red in his faux rage to a breathless pink dusting his cheeks, flared bright red once more. He continued, “Honestly though, it would be boring and I know you’re not interested in gym life no matter how many times I attempt to convince you otherwise.”

Sean crossed his arms defiantly. “I want to hang out with you as a friend. Even if I don’t like working out doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the effort that goes into it.”

“Do you even know what a workout consists of?”

“Sweat?”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” They both chuckle as they finally reach the public locker room. “It warms the cockles of my heart hearing how ardently you want to be in my presence young Poole. Who am I to keep you from your desires?”

Sean deadpanned, “I desire you getting punched in the face.”

 

After that, it became routine. Sean would sit it on a class every Tuesday morning, and would meet with James at the gyms on Thursdays for a sack-lunch eat in. He would usually stick around while James went through his personal workout routines, most of the time just providing commentary or sassy encouragements and the other times just keep James company as he talked on his phone with a coworker.

Sean never took part in it though, which had consistently kept James extremely curious. Because at first glance, he knew Sean wasn’t the type of guy to voluntarily go to a gym, and now that James had a good perception of who Sean actually was, it only seemed to back up that speculation.

It was during one of these days that James asked him, to which Sean immediately became visibly embarrassed.

“W-well,” he started. Then paused, as if trying to figure out a way to describe his reasoning. “I just wanted to prove a point I guess.”

James laughed. “What? That you know where a gym is? That you might just be the first person ever to spend this much time in a gym and not have touched the equipment once? or ever?”

Sean sputtered, obviously vexed by the teasing. James sighed, realizing that the poor boy actually did have a reasoning behind it, that he probably felt pretty strongly about.

“Okay Sean. Mr. Poole. Spoole. Let’s have it.”

Sean let out a startled laugh, quickly detaching from his previously indignation in order to smile, amused, at James with a wicked gleam in his eye as he laughed “Your face has it.”

James raised a single brow as he slowed out of his jog into a brisk walk. “What? You look too gleeful at such a horrible joke, and an equally atrocious nickname. Unless you’re into pet names because, let me tell you hotstuff-”

“Its my boyfriends.”

“-that… wait. What?”

“My boyfriends. They all call me Spoole. It’s just funny that you came up with that too, is all.” He quickly gives James a stern look. “Which does not make it a name that needs to stick.”

James was kind distracted from the name situation though, his mind blown by a larger question. “Boyfriends? As in plural, more than one boys with which you are very intimately friend...ly?”

Sean’s expression immediately shuts down, which is a shame to see such an easily blissful  face become so quickly masked, but he didn’t back down from the interjection. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it, sure.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

“It is -” Sean starts aggressively - for him, at least, so its tantamount to a puppy snarling - before jerking short in surprise. “C-cool? Is it cool? I mean, it is cool!” His face twists in confusion and surprise, but at least he’s dropped the stern act.

“Obviously I’m upset that you have more game than I do, at the moment, but hey. That’s my B.”

“Well at least you-”

“I am curious. How many dicks are we talking here?”

“James.”

“Like, are we talking DP here? 3P? or would it be TP? I don’t know man, you’re the dick expert apparently.”

“JaMES.” And wow, Sean (Spoole?) was the type to blush easily but James had never seen him this red, nor this giggly. “You’re the only dick expert here.” He laughed, “Expert on how to be a dick!” grinning in pride with his comeback even as James groaned. When Sean gets like this he is the Colon+uppercase D emoji personified.

“OhhKay Spoole, no need to get too excited. Do I need to call your boys to hose you off?”

That got Sean sputtering on a brand new tirade involving “Dumbass gym instructors” who “were just jealous they weren’t getting any” and “stop saying Spoole it won’t stick!”

But once Spoole had realized that his romantic situation was a non-issue and that James was content to move forwards normally. And if James felt even the smallest bit of disappointment that Sean was already in a committed relationship, well, that was something that never came up.

 

James didn’t realize until much later, when he was playing through some bullshit steam game that Spoole had recommended to him, that Sean had never clarified what exactly he meant by “proving a point.”

James wouldn’t find out for some time yet.

 

Life went on. They still played games together online and more often than not Sean was visiting James at the gym multiple times a week. Now James would often make cracks at Sean about how lonely his boys must be, for their Spoole to be spending all his time not working out at the gym. Sean always laughed at this, and he seemed eager to open up more about his home life, often complaining about some musical he couldn’t get out of his head because his boyfriend Joel refused to stop singing about barricades, or his rage inducing attempts to get his boyfriend Adam to sit down and watch something for more than twenty minutes at a time. He seemed happy.

James had been worried when Spoole, during one of their lunchtime meet ups, had frozen in place, staring at a tv display overhead. There were probably twenty screens littered throughout the room, featuring a litany of athletics programs for any unfortunate soul who happened to forget their headphones and had to rely on sports captioning for an escape.

Sean, however, wasn’t staring at one of the baseball games going on overhead. He was staring at one of the few screens featuring a news channel, a breaking story about some criminal activity happening across town.

“Wow, that seems pretty serious.” James muttered, glancing up at the screen that had captured Spoole’s attention. “I guess those Funhaus guys are feeling bored today, if the explosions are any indication. Man I would hate to be-” He cut himself off as Sean hastily pulled out his phone and got to his feet simultaneously. “Sean?”

“Sorry James, I’ve got to go!” Sean didn’t even spare James a glance as he hastily grabbed his bag and took off towards the gym’s main double doors.

“What’s wrong? Sean, is everything-” He cut himself off again as Spoole finally turned with a wave, his face upset.

“I’ll call you later!” and he was out the door.

 

He didn’t call.

 

James never really noticed how much he enjoyed hearing about Spoole and his boys’ shenanigans until Sean dropped off the map for a week. He didn’t answer texts, didn’t stream online, and he definitely didn’t stop by the gym.

So when Spoole appeared while James was wrapping up his last class for the day, James felt understandably frosty.

“Eight days, Sean.” He says lowly, brushing past the younger boy stood in the door.

“James, I’m sorry. Hear me out, please?”

“Dude, I’m fucking pissed so if you dont want me taking out my vinegar on you, please. Just.” James keeps walking, knowing if he stopped to turn to the kid following him that he’d only see red. “I’m not ready to be around you and pretend I wasn’t worried my ass off these past eight days, all for this dumbass punk who couldn’t even manage a text to say that he was alive.”

“James, come on-”

“James.”

That, that was a new voice. A deeper one, a familiar one. He turned around and Sean was there, yes, but he wasn’t alone. In his anger, James hadn’t noticed the taller, infinitely more hefty figure standing at his side. It’d been four years, but James couldn’t help but notice ruefully that he looked exactly the same.

Spoole, seeing his opportunity, tried once more. “James, I’m so sorry. I’ll explain later but, well, my boyfriend wanted to speak with you first. James, this is -”

This time James cut Sean off. “Bruce. Yeah, I know.” He turns around, and kept walking.

 

 

 

( _James Willems has been through a lot in his twenty five years. He’s faced stuff he’d rather had not, like the looming dread of being jobless and the gut-wrenching heartache of a relationship falling through the cracks. He has fallen in and out and then back into love, he’s forged friendships he never would have thought possible, and has lost friendships he never considered capable of being lost._ )

 This may have begun with Spoole, but everything - and James meant _everything_ \- ended with Bruce.

 


	2. (MY HEART part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Isn't there some ancient saying that goes 'If you find yourself pondering the merits of Purina alone at midnight, abandon all hope you fucking loser.'"

_Meeting your soul mate in a coffee shop isn't a thing that happens in the real world. James realized that soul mates were also a thing created by fantastical thinking, but ask him years later and he still didn't think that he was being wishful when he met Bruce._

_He'd never know what had him charmed; was it the fact that here was a man, decked out in the garb of a frat boy, five years past what would be considered agreeable. Was it his drink order that involved way too much sugar for a man his look or his age. Whatever it was he'd never forget it; 659 am, standing behind the child in a man's body, desperate to due of caloric intake. It looked as if the sun rose if only to bathe this man in morning light. Perhaps, James did recall the encounter with a but of hyperbole, but in the end it didn't matter. What mattered was that James did the natural response when encountering an interesting obstqcle, he conquered it - in this case involving the act of paying for the man's ridiculously sugary drink, asking only for the humor of his company in return._

_James will sometimes wonder what would have happened if he let that man simply walk out of the cafe with his drink that morning, what his life would have become if he didn't pester the man for his number. James always comes to the same conclusion, which is that he's not particularly sure he wants to know._

 

_So maybe it all was terribly cliched. James should be ashamed to admit that except, he wasn’t._

 

_Meeting Bruce had felt like fate, including all the cheesy tropes attached to the notion. As a twenty year old finished his third undergraduate year, James certainly hadn't been in the prime of his social game. As demanding as college life was, James also devoted a fair amount of time to daily gym sessions and catching up on video game releases. Outside of the dude bro lifestyle of his gym partners and the isolated cajoling of his Internet acquaintances, James hadn't been entirely aware that he was even missing some thing, he wasn't aware until Bruce slid into his life like a round peg falling into a round hole._

_And yes James was perfectly fine with that imagery._

_He had, for the fleeting year and a half that he held Bruce's affections, thought that he had found his place in the universe. James knows now that he had been moronically naive, admittedly also stupidly in love, but still an idiot about it nonetheless._

_Sometimes he'll also think about that night, the last night, and wonder what had gone wrong. Because he still didn't know. If there had been words, raised voices, or hurt feelings, then maybe, he'll rationalize it wouldn't have been as bad. This is what he tells himself as James waits for the warm embrace of sleep to keep him company for the night. For sleep to take him away from insecurities of friends, from anxieties of work, from shame of failings. Away from the what ifs of his failed romance. He'll lie in the cold dark of his empty apartment, staring up into the blackness of his ceiling and he'll keep thinking. If only there had been words - a miscommunication that he could dissect, a disagreement to give fault, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much._

 

 _But there wasn’t. There were no words, which left James with only the gut wrenching sting of_   not being enough _to haunt his restless mind_.

 

 

While he wasn't actively trying to avoid Sean, James wasn't making any effort to get into contact with him either.

He hadn't been lying when he told the man that he needed space; James was angry. What he felt to be a justifiable anger, sure, but that still didn't mean the James wanted to take out his frustrations on the younger boy - not when he was more angry at himself than he was at Sean. Or even Bruce.

For the past four years James had a recurring dream. It was that sickly sweet sort of fantasy that involved all of the cheesy, b rate Hollywood tropes that caused so many rom coms to fly off the shelves. It was washing dishes with someone there to dry them, it was surprising that someone with lunch at work, it was coming home to a bouquet of flowers for no reason other than being so very in love. It was waking up and knowing, without a doubt, who would be next to you when you opened your eyes.

For four years, James would dream that wistful dream, only to open his eyes and realize he had returned to living his nightmare.

Bruce had meant a lot to James, since the first moment he met the hilarious and smelly and completely amazing man during his university years. Twenty-one year old James hadn't realized how silly his thoughts were. Twenty-one year old James might as well have had visions of white picket fences and domestic pie baking for how disillusioned he had been. What he and Bruce had experiences had become blatantly, painfully different and it still hurt him to think about it.

James realized he was having his own fantastical thinking about what Sean would be to him (he should have stopped himself before he was in too deep, but he became too attached before he even thought to shield himself. And that's his problem - he never _realizes_. Not until it's far too late.) but also to the fact that Bruce was somehow part of the equation stung. Even though he knew Sean had no way of knowing his past with the older man, or that his silence would have such a profound effect on James, it still hurt to know how little he actually knew about Sean.

And _maybe also just a little bit_ it was that Bruce was back in Los Angeles, that Bruce hadn't even thought to sought him out. _Possibly_ that factored in, but James is nothing if not the master of denial.

So no, while James didn't answer his texts nearly as often as he should, and maybe he shouldn't have rejected quite as many calls, but he didn't see this as avoidance. (see? Denial could be his middle name) He saw it as a coworker, asking him to cover a month's worth of his evening classes. He didn't even stop to ponder on how Sean would take it, when he texts him to let him know he wouldn't be teaching morning yoga for the time being, or for him not to expect to find James in his usual lunch workouts. It's not that he doesn't want to see Sean - which is entirely part of the main problem, because for as upset he is he wants to see Sean too much - or even that he wants to punish Sean for not considering his feelings. It's that James needs a new routine, a new way to deal with his thoughts without fucking someone else up in the process - because if all else, he knew what it feels like to be on the other side of that equation. He took on the night classes with a hope that he could stumble home night after night and fall straight into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

As seemed to be the one true constant in James' life, things did not go as planned.

 

He hadn't planned to fall for Bruce all those years ago, he certainly hadn't planned on his heart broken by the man. When Sean stumbled into his life, James hadn't planned on him being anything more than another friendly face the the gym, he certainly hadn't planned on the mind numbing pain brought on by his absence.

Even more, James hadn't anticipated the fact that he could care so much for a man known as Spoole. Time and time again, however, James manages to fall too hard, too quickly, and too completely. He just wished he knew how to stop himself, and had to resort to ignoring the situation entirely in his attempt to move on.

Which is how after a week of successfully avoiding phone calls, ignoring text messages, and of strange work hours, James is finally forced to face what he had hoped would blow over on its own.

It came in a surprisingly small package.

 

>>sORRY D:

 

James looked down at the newest text from Sean, and assumed it's just another one of his apologetic pleas for James' forgiveness. Granted, it's less thoughtful than the " _I'M D: SU CH AN IDIOT D: D: D:_ " " _PLS RESPOND {//.\\\\} I'M CRYING PLS D;;;;;;;;_ " and the " _Your eyes reflect the ocean of sorrow I now feel myself. Consider this the lonely message within the cold bottle, left to float adrift in the temperament ocean, hoping that someday a passers-by will stumble across it. The message is one of regret, of heart felt sadness, of longing puppy eyes. Will you snatched the bottle from the muddy sands of time or will you let it drift back into the murky nothingness of the lonely sea._ "

James isn't an expert on Sean, but he's PRETTY sure that gem didn't come from the man, and at the very least he knew of one supposedly theater - loving boyfriend who might have had a hand in it. James feelt like by now, he could tell the authenticity of a Sean Poole text by the sheer amount of smilies and grammatical error it included.

Choosing not to respond, because that's always the safer option and James was proud to admit that he's a coward, he just pocketed the phone once more and pushed his way into the twenty-four hour convenience store just a couple blocks from his house. He had been walking home from the gym because trying to drive in Los Angeles at any time of the day is tantamount to motor suicide, and despite the late hour of the night he decided that a store was preferable to the emptiness of his apartment. If James told himself that he stops because he's in desperate need of certain supplies, well, James wasn't about to deny that he is a liar as well.

He knew that the truth was that there's something else, someones else, that he was trying to push to the back of his mind, and would gladly grasp any excuse to do so. "Those who must not be named," he giggled to himself because _please_ when was he ever going to get a chance at that joke again. Distracted, James wandered the isles, not really paying attention to his direction until he found himself stood in front of endless rows of cat food.

"Fuck me," James muttered. “How is this my life. Isn't there some ancient saying that goes 'If you find yourself pondering the merits of Purina alone at midnight, abandon all hope you fucking loser.' I am so fuuuuucked.”

 

“Is that an offer?” James jolted as a voice chimed in from beside him. He quickly turned to look at the offending voice, only to be met with a cool smirk and amused brown eyes.

 

The man was ... surprisingly short. He had to be around the same size as Sean, the top of his head barely reaching Jame's shoulders. Where Sean was a timid stick who looked as if a small gust of wind could blow him away this man was more solidly built. He d unruly dark hair and has the faint echo of facial hair spattered along his jaw, giving the man a maturity that echoes the assured way he carries himself. The man was young, clearly, but James wouldn't be surprised if he was a couple years older than himself. He was wearing a simple combinations of jeans and t-shirt, but had a full sleeve of tattoos running the length of his right arm. Unlike the string bean that Sean is, this man actually had some muscle mass and held a much more assured air around himself that made even a stranger such as James acknowledge the hidden strength there.

 

This wasn't the type of guy you try and mess with.

That thought is only reinforced when the man stepped into James space, eyes holding his baby blues with ease, even though it was a strain to both of their necks to make the contact at such close quarters. He jabbed a finger into James' chest, making the taller man flinch instinctively.

"My boyfriends aren't happy about you, at the moment."

Suddenly the newcomer's appearance makes complete sense, James couldn't help but grin weakly in reply. "My bad for forgetting about the four protective boyfriends currently out to kick my ass."

“Objectively speaking, it's a nice ass. It'd be a shame to bruise it," the man said with a quirk of an eyebrow that looked way hotter than it should have been given the fact that James was currently fearing for his life.

"Is that.. Are you flirting with me?" James asked, stunned, because when he had imagined a confrontation such as this, something so base as flirting was the last thing on his mind. "I mean, I can't blame you because DUH obviously you've seen me, but you guys. You're all a piece of work aren't you?"

At the flattening of the stranger's face, James was quick to add "but be my guest, flirt away Captain. I can think of a couple of things more fun to do with my ass than take a boot up it.. unless that's a kink of yours then, yeah okay I'm shutting up now.”

The man didn't really respond, he just seemed to be trying to instill the fear of God in James from ill humored glare alone.

You see, the thing about James was that when he's happy, he won't shut up. When he's upset, he may be a little more biting than usual, but his mouth was still running. So you can bet that when he got nervous, James didn't have enough self preservation to actually shut up.

"I keep meeting you boys at bizzaro places. This is either exceedingly coincidental, totally _missed connections_ meets _she's gotta have it_ , or you guys all have a bit of a stalker problem." the man didn’t respond, but James was backtracking instinctively. "Not that that's a bad thing necessarily, I mean, you are all hot, so far, so the attention. Really boasting my ego, like, dude my head might as well be a hot air balloon. But I'm confused as to why because if you have five other hot boyfriends should you guys be stalking each other? Because like, there's not many fish in the sea, and only certain fish approve of stalking." and he wasn't fluent in nonverbal communication, and the dude was totally flat faced, seriously not a muscle had so much as twitched in the past two minutes of vaguely fearful rambling but James was somewhat certain that the light in the man's eyes could be taken as amusement. Or just a reflection of the shitty fluorescent lighting of the supermarket. So really, same difference. "Should I keep talking? Because I feel like I should keep talking but I also REALLY feel like you could kill me. Easily. So."

The man snorted at this, which James took as a kind of 'You're not wrong about that' response, and good lord a man this small should not be so intimidating to a man of Jame's stature. Finally uncrossing his arm to scratch lazily at his neck, the man responded. "Well," he finally said" I can see why they like you at least. You're funny."

 

"That's me, James 'funny' Willems. The funny man. The dude of laughs - Wait what do you mean AT LEAST?" Feeling more comfortable that the man could appreciate a good shtick - this was a shtick right, because James hoped the man was capable of running with a good laugh. He really wasn't looking to get his ass kicked my his ex and gym buddies' boyfriend. Especially not one barely over half his size - he valued what was left of his pride thank you very much.

"Do I NEED to kick your ass?" the boyfriend asked while, again, one side of his mouth quirked upwards into another smirk.

Now he knew the man was fucking with him. The bastard.

"Okay wise guy do I at least get a name before you defend your boyfriends' honor."

 

And that's how he met Matt.

 

After they get over the whole “You could totally kick my ass, and its probably a bit deserved if we're being honest, but I'm much too pretty to die so young, so could you not?” aspect of their meeting, Matt wasn't that bad of a guy.

He also didn't seem pretty intent on using violence on James, so that was definitely a plus.

He also didn't take any of James' dramatics, which was slightly disappointing.

“I'm telling you, get off your pity wagon and call them. One of them, both of them – I'm not picky.”

“Okay asshole, I understand the whole protective boyfriend bit, I do, but just because you tell me to get over my feelings don't make my emotions invalid. They both fucked up.”

“Not talking to them isn't going to fix anything.”

“And picking up the phone will – I get it. I know, I'm _painfully_ aware of this. But I'm not ready and nothing you could tell me right now will change that.”

At this Matt looked like he wanted to respond, but ended up just sighing and crossed his arms to match Jame's posture. But where this made James look defensive, it only serves to strengthen the severity of Matt's demeanor.

“Knowing that you're thinking about it is enough. For now.” he added with a pointed look. “Now are you actually going to buy something here or can I walk you home.”

He only knew the man all of ten minutes, but already James realized that there was really no way to say no to the question – it wasn't a request. And Matt seemed the type of guy who would be more than willing to drag James out of the store whether he wanted to or not.

When they reached his apartment, Matt pulled something out of his pocket and hands it to James. Holding it up to the dim light coming from within the building, James was startled to see that its a cell phone, it was _his_ cellphone. His hand went immediately to his back pocket where he usually keeps the device - obviously it was not there. He didn't know what his face looked like but it must be a pretty decent impression of a bass fish because Matt scratches his neck in what could be considered embarrassment, but was probably more akin to amusement.

“Yes, I pocketed your phone. Yes it now has my contact information. Yes you are allowed to text me. And no, before you ask, I did not fondle your ass to get it. It fell out at the store.”

James found this highly suspect because he would have heard it hit the hard title of the store, but he also never noticed the absent weight for the past hour that it had to have been missing, so he couldn't really call his new friend – was this becoming a thing now? James didn't know if the whole 'becoming friends with your boyfriends' boyfriends' was awkward or not- out on it.

When Matt left, James is able to sleep that night feeling a little less one versus the world.

 

 

>is it unprofessional to call a client “Rad Blueberry” in my mind?

>>Who actually cares?

 

It turned out that Matt is also no nonsense with his texts, but he responded to James' texts, regardless of content so James figured that had to count for something.

 

 

The thing about the Spoole situation is that James had gotten over the hurt feelings a long time ago. Almost immediately, actually, but it had been a couple of weeks since the incident. He was still not happy about the situation, but that more reflected James' fucked up social insecurities. Being friends with Sean wasn't what he was avoiding, and James was cognizant enough to admit that.

Two weeks was a long time to ignore someone, and James did feel shitty about it, Matt's disappointed eyebrows be damned.

The real problem is that he didn't know how to bridge that silence. Spoole still sent him shitty apologetic messages once a day, but just plainly texting back seemed to easy for James.

And maybe James had a few stalker tendencies himself, because he too took to watching Sean's livestreams – not that he actually told the man. And they were god damn adorable.

He actually was a child in a man's body, singing high pitched with stupid pop songs, bickering fondly with his chat, and wow James had it bad because he even found his game play cute.

 _Cute_. He still managed to find the kid with five boyfriends _cute_. James was so fucked.

>i miss your stupid hat

He sent the text it in the middle of one Sean's grinding-for-achievements sessions, because if he was developing voyeuristic tendencies for this _extremely_ taken man, then James was going to take full advantage. And man, it was a thing of glory to watch live while Sean read the text, sputtered in indignation, and literally drop his controller – getting his character killed, oops – in order to hurriedly type out a response.

>>i miss ur stupid face XD XP >.O

It was good to know that Sean hadn't improved his shitty comebacks.

<can i call you? it can wait until youre done with your stream

>>;;;O perv ;O

James watched as Sean wrapped up his stream early, apologizing profusely to his viewers that something important had come up. James supposed that he should feel bad for interrupting the man's night, but getting him flustered was something James had actually missed in the time he hadn't been talking to the boy. It's extremely welcomed when, immediately after the stream goes black, James' phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Your fans are going to be upset with you, I don't even want to imagine what your twitter hate must look like right now.” James greeted him, laying down on his bed to stare up at his ceiling, trying to picture how Sean must look at the moment.

“Well it's your fault so I'll just send them to your profile,” Sean fell silent before he asked more softly, “Am I allowed to apologize without you shutting me down now?

That made James wince. “I've been shitty to you these past two weeks. Can we just call it even and put this behind us?”

“Are you just saying that, or do you actually feel that way?” Sean sounded a bit petulant, like he was waiting for James to remember how mad he had been. Which wow, truth bomb, maybe he underestimated just how badly Sean must have been feeling too.

“I'm pretty sure Matt would have my balls if I put your through the ringer any longer,” he commented lightly. This caused Sean to snort into the phone. “That's not funny! He may be as short as you but at least he can handle himself in a fight!”

“Duh. You wouldn't stand a chance against him. And why would I fight when I have him?” Sean devolved into full, chest shaking laughter. “I have five, much stronger boyfriends hello.”

James sincerely hoped that after this he wouldn't feel the need to watch over his shoulder for boyfriends four through six anymore. He rolled onto his stomach with a sigh, his phone still pressed tightly to his ear. “Yeah yeah, 'Weak Gym Instructor Gets Ass Beat by Four of Small Child's Boy Toys.' I can see the headline now.”

There's a pause, before Sean tentatively asked, “You're not counting Bruce?” Like he's not sure its a safe topic to broach. And he's not far from being wrong, but James had spent four years ignoring that aspect of his life. He's done letting it get to him so much and if he could build bridges with Sean, then it gave hope to James that maybe someday he could get there with Bruce too.

“Nothing against you and your boys, but Bruce wouldn't kick me ass. I'm not denying the boy toy bit though,” he was actually able to laugh to laugh at that, which wow, that's progress. He can hear Sean's relieved smile through the phone.

“Well,” and man, it must be a shit-eating grin. “You're not wrong.”

 

x.x

 

>>God bless.

>miracles happen Matty #onceinaWhile #WhenYouBELIEVE

>>I take it back.

 

x.x

 

Lawrence is definitely more subtle than Matt, but managed to be presiding pain to James' side regardless.

It began with a new enrollment into his yoga class – James was still teaching the night courses for at least another three weeks until his coworker could take back over. The only accurate word to describe the man was pretty. Although he was tall (still slightly shorter than James), he was a man with a classical aesthetic – the more James thought about it, the more he realized the man was totally rocking a Clark Kent. Well kept dark hair that curled onto his forehead in the top, a strong square jawline, and although they weren't overt he had lean muscles of someone who regularly worked out. He even had the simple, black framed glasses sitting on his nose. The man also was already was well-versed in the forms of yoga that James went over for the advanced class, and maybe that was just James projecting, but the man seemed bored whenever he attended. He never said a word to James, though, and showed up right as the class began only to leave the moment it ended. James wrote it off as someone trying to establish a precedent for a new gym and didn't even think to remember the man until he showed up more often..

James wasn't quite sure what set him off initially to the fact that man was more than just a casual gym member because the man himself was not anything stand out. He was extraordinarily average, but James figured that lent himself to the Clark Kent theory even more. So maybe it was the fact that while the man consistently attended two of James' classes each week, he never came to the same combination of classes - never established a schedule by which James could predict his appearances. Maybe it was that he didn't socialized with _anyone_ , only slipping in and out of each class without a sound.

Whatever it was, James didn't actually meet the man until he had already been pseudo attending James' classes for a couple of weeks. It was when the man sat in on one of James' theory-heavy courses, that night he happened to be going over the five attitudes of devotion, and he could feel the man's haughty stare all the way from the front of the room.

It was also the first night that the guy stayed behind.

Seeing the mystery man loiter in the hall after the course had gone out, James figured he might as well see what his deal was.

 

“Bhaki, really?”

“What's your problem with it? It's a good spiritual exercise.”

“Yeah, by 'attaining the union of the absolute?' The theory has no use outside of religious applications, and none of your bored housewives would put it to use.”

“So you're a bored housewife. How's that going for ya.”

“Ohohoho, you think you're clever. I'm just not used to such a tame curriculum.”

“Okay hotshot, do you want to teach the class?”

“I probably could.”

“I would love to see that trainwreck, oh my god.”

“Dude you haven't done yoga until you do the P90x equivalent. This is a cake walk in comparison.”

 

You see, the problem with Lawrence, James was quick to learn, is that he's 1) competitive and 2) doesn't like wasting his time. This itself wouldn't be a problem except that 1) James was also competitive and 2) finds offense at Lawrence thinking his class was a waste of time.

This lead to he and Lawrence made a habit of getting into yoga-fueled debates, even falling into them during his actual classes. James hadn’t thought it possible to have that much content fuel for heated opinions on the topic until Lawrence happened. If James once changed his plans for the class to going over the nine forms of Bhaki just to annoy Lawrence, well, no one could prove it.

James doesn't put together the whole “you're one of those stalker boyfriends that I keep getting warned about” situation until he overhears Lawrence on the phone after one of the sessions. In James' defense, the class was over and Lawrence was the one taking phone calls in his instruction room so really, James couldn't help what he overheard.

“... Damn, Adam isn't going to be happy.. Yeah.. Yeah, I'll be home soon. Thirty minutes at least, Joel. Okay .. love you too.”

He hung up the call and looked over to where James had been standing, not at all surprised that he had been listening to the older man's side of the phone conversation.

“Trouble in paradise?” James asked, quickly putting the pieces together. He recognized the names from Sean's numerous, and Matt's more rare, comments about their other lovers. It wasn't too much of a stretch to realize that this Lawrence, along with his Adam and Joel, were one and the same.

“You could put it that way.” Lawrence was smiling though, not looking troubled by the phone call, so James figured it was probably about something trivial. “He misses you, you know.”

“I talk to Spoole like, every day. He's not that clingy is he?”

“You're trying to be cute, but I was talking about Bruce,” Unlike Spoole, Lawrence had so reservations bringing the name up, and that should be refreshing to James except he was kind of caught up in the fact that they're _actually talking about this_.”And I think you know that.”

“You can go fuck yourself,” James can't help that he immediately becomes defensive. This man obviously was only trying to bandage some of his boyfriend's wounds but come one. He didn't even know James, how dare he try and assume what he did or didn't know.

“I've got five other guys to do that for me, thanks.”

Lawrence isn't even _smug_ when he says it, how unfair is that. He also doesn't rise to counter James' venom, so that's also a bit of a downer. Mindless anger is always much easier to deal with than actual emotions. “I've gotten the 'call him' talk from Thing One and Thing Two, thanks. Everything you have to say I already know.”

“Have you been out to see _Furious 7_ yet?”

“I, no? I haven't been to the theater in years, dude.”

At this Lawrence's eyes widened in honest disbelief beneath the large lenses of his glasses. “Are you serious?”

“Are we just going to ignore that we were in the middle of the Bruce conversation, because I honestly don't know what he has to do with some stupid car movie.”

“We're going right now, there last showing is in twenty minutes. We'll miss some of the previews, but trailers are poorly made nowadays anyway.”

“What the fuck is happening right now.”

James knew that they're boyfriends, but the “Peasant, you are not amusing now or ever” look that Lawrence leveled onto him was much too reminiscent of Matt's similar “cut the bullshit” stare. James distantly wonders which look came first.

“We, are going to educate you in fine film experience.”

“Didn't you just tell your boyfriend that you'd be home in thirty minutes?” At this, Lawrence pulled out his cell phone once more and tapped out a message. He pocketed the phone again with a flourish, “There. Now they know not to wait up.”

“How the fuck do you even know what the show times are, did you pre-plan this? Is this how you asked the other boys out on dates because if so you are a keeper.”

Lawrence just laughed as he began to herd James out of the door. “The Fast and The Furious movies are an American Classic, it is unpatriotic to not know a possible showtime at any given moment.”

“You're like, the king of inane arguments.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm not entirely sure that was a compliment?”

 

x.X

 

>Glasses isn't half as subtle as he hopes to be

>>You do realize that you own glasses as well?

>heya matt whos side are you on?? also, im pretty sure he just kidnapped me so

>> Let's do lunch.

>?? um, sure? nice segue. totally didnt notice you not answering that ? im fearing for my life?

>> Lawrence too. And if I have to sit through you two debating yoga, or car movies, heads will roll.

>Aye Aye Captain, best behavior ahoyyyy

>>I can bring Bruce too, just watch me.

>ouch okay but the awkwardness will be on you

 

X.x

 

After the movie thing, James still wasn't quite sure if it was Lawrence being honestly obsessed with the movie series – because he spent the entire movie spouting random trivial facts about the film and its cast into his ear, all “cyclical story arcs” and “four movies of emotional payoff” that James could only nod in agreement to – or if that was just his way of offering friendship. Matt wasn't any help, and Spoole only laughed his ass off when James told him about the thing.

Lawrence never mentioned Bruce again, though.

 

Lunch became a thing too.

Without realizing it, James had gotten extremely used to his routine. Now that his production job was off the table, he had the same rinse repeat routine from the gym to his home, with little variation. It was actually nice to get out and do something new.

On the other hand, however, life as a full-time gym instructor certainly wasn't glorious so whenever one of the guys dragged him out – it was usually Matt, with Lawrence and Sean often tagging along – James wasn't ashamed to whip out his usual packed lunch while the others ordered from whatever cafe or diner they had chosen for the day. The boys always offered to pay for his portion, to which James always ignored, taking a seat and digging his lunch out of the backpack he had started carting around. This didn't stop the boys from ordering him food regardless, often getting him a side of fries or a burger that they wouldn't let him refuse. He would have felt bad except that Matt made it extremely clear early on that “although we acknowledge your budgetary concerns, this doesn't mean we cant be just as frivolous with our purchases.”

 

Buying stuff for him, James could handle, it was harmless. But what had him more than a little apprehensive was that James liked these guys. If he was being honest, he more than liked these guys, and he could completely understand why Bruce had fallen for them.

When they started showing affection for James as well, it threw him off. It began innocently, Lawrence's hand on his shoulder while they talked, Matt bumping into his arm in agreement, or covering a mouth with his hand when James got too excited about the newest episode of anime, it was Sean grabbing his hand to pull him over to whatever inane thing had his attention, with neither of them letting go.

It was all stuff he could write off as them being friends. That was, until Sean kissed him. It was extremely innocent and adorable, but the only thoughts that raced through James head was _Oh God. I am so dEAD_. Because Lawrence was still placing his boyfriends' food order, but Matt was sitting right there, and why oh god why was he _smiling at them_? It seemed like hours, but the kiss probably only lasted for a few seconds, ending with Spoole pulling away with a laugh, his face beet red but that didnt stop him from draping himself over James' shoulder.

“I think you broke him, Spoole.”

“Just give him a minute,” he laughed, but James could feel Sean tensing up around James and he has no idea how to respond. Later he'll find it funny that he literally froze with shock, but at the time James just knows that he has absolutely no control of his limbs.

It's only when Spoole started to pull away, worry now on both his and Matt's face that he was able to move, to stop Sean by grabbing onto the hand he still had wrapped around James' shoulder. “Maybe try giving a guy some warning before you give him a heart attack, Spoole.” He smiled at Matt nervously before turning his head to Sean.

“Sorry,” is the response from Matt. “I guess that we're so used to the idea that we didn't really think it would be surprising to you.”

“Yeah, we really like you James,” Sean said excitedly, his face still pink. “I think we just assumed you would feel the same, sorry.”

“I'm sorry, but is this actually happening right now?”

“What's actually happening” This time it was Lawrence, who had finally walked back to their table with their order number in hand. He doesn't blink at the way Spoole is draped over the other man, he only sits down next to Matt and lays his own arm over the back of his boyfriend's chair.

“Spoole put the moves on Muscles, finally. You missed the life flashing before James' eyes.”

“Dammit Sean, you wait this long and you go and do it without me here. Really?” This had Lawrence pouting, actually lip out pouting. “Is he a decent kisser at least?”

“Okay look can we just pause for a moment here because I'm actually afraid that my brain has shorted out, what the actual fuck?”

Using his hand that wasn't presently being abused in the vice grip of James' hand, he turned James' face to look at him, leaving his palm pressed warmly against his cheek, anchoring him in his confusion. “We know you haven't been in a serious relationship in a long time, and we also know how different it might be to get into the idea of a multiple partner relationship. The last thing we want to do is rush you into making any serious commitments or to seem like we're wanting to force you out of your comfort zone. But we want you to know what we feel about you, and if you want us, that's great we'll wait for you to be ready. And if you don't, then we'll be bummed and I'll probably pout but we'll respect that and are perfectly fine with continuing as friends.”

James looked at Sean with wide eyes. “I think that's the most you've ever said to me, espeically without adding 'your mom' at the end.” Sean pinched James' cheek in rebuttal, causing them both to grin, James' momentarily forgetting his identity crisis. Matt is the one to bring him back to the reality of the situation.

“I know you haven't met Adam or Joel yet, but you will, soon. We're sort of a package deal, so we all understand if that's something you want to wait on.”

“Are we just going to ignore that Bruce is an equal part of this equation?” James states outright, because of everything they were talking about, that was the one topic the others seemed to be skirting around. Matt shared a glance with Lawrence, but James wasn't able to tell what they were able to wordlessly say to each other. Lawrence was the one to respond to the question.

“He's a part of this too, of course. But we all know what he feels for you, and we're pretty sure that its mutual.” James really should be pissed at Lawrence for, once again, assuming his feelings on the topic, but just like last time – he's not entirely wrong and he's not exactly pushy about the topic. Just factual.

James felt more defeated than anything else, strung out by the information overload. Because sure he had imagined what it might be like to have boyfriends as great as these guys, he had even wondered what it would be like to actually _be_ with these guys. But they know, if not as well as James knows himself, how emotionally unavailable he was; has been for the past four years.

 _Four years_.

It's not easy to make a change in that long, and its even harder to even consider to make a change. He's not sure if he's ready to put himself out there yet. He pulled away from Sean, letting the younger man's hands fall away.. Sean sputters a little “James!” his eyes wide as James stood up from the table.

“This isn't a no.” He said before any of the others could speak. “This is me, needing some time to think this over. All of it.” He shares a look with the three; Matt's was understanding, Lawrence, nodding to himself like it was an expected response, Sean looked the most worried of the three but he wasn't trying to change James' mind either. James reached out to steal Sean's hat before putting it on his own head. “I'll give this back when I decide,” he winks at the youngest in the group before waving to the others. “I'm pretty sure your food is ready, so I'll leave first.”

As he walks away, he can hear Lawrence saying, “I was serious about the kissing thing,” that had the whole table laughing and James himself smiling. This would be different, and a whole lot of trouble, James was sure.

 

But maybe different didn't have to be a bad thing.

 

-tbc-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE FIRST HALF OF THE CHAPTER DEAR LORD
> 
> I'm sincerely sorry to all of my tumblr followers who have had to put up with me slowly losing my mind this past week as I worked this chapter out. As you can tell, its a long one, but part two - which is equally as long- should be out soon.
> 
> come keep my dwindling sanity company over @joelhole on tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you for all of the kind comments on the first chapter! believe me I had many excruiating moments of self-doubt while writing this, and those comments and kudos are what kept me going. <3 all of you shiphausers and I hope this chapter did your expectations justice!!!  
> This is all self-edited so mistakes are my own U.U
> 
> Part 2 will bring us the M rating, a lot of Bruce, and finally fINALLY we'll be getting to the GTA aspect of this universe. fuck yea


	3. (MY HEART part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Adam, would you please, for the love of my sanity, put that sandwich down and just let me weave my tale of woes while you pat me on the back and say 'There, there my dear James. Bruce is a dick who doesn't deserve a minute of your precious and juicy fruit smelling breath, which we all known is the best smelling gum fuck you Bubblicious."

_James wakes up one morning with a single sentence reverberating through his mind._

_Today is the day._

_It's a thought that colors all of his morning routine. An inarticulate feeling that wets the back of his throat as he showers, unyieldingly persistent as it whispers to him even while dressing, nagging him as he waits for his coffee to finish its brew._

Today is the day.

_He knows that this is something he has put off for far too long already, and just sitting there, staring at his phone, only heightens the fear that has so far kept him from making this step. It would have been reasonable for him to text Sean, or call Matt for support, but with the recent revelations and the eventful lunch from the week prior has made James feel awkward in his own skin. He doesn't know what he wants - or more plainly he knows exactly what he wants but no how to achieve it. He knows what he has to do but not how to prevent it's failure. He doesn't know what he would do with himself, or even if he could live with himself, it it all fell through. Again._

_It's time, he has to do this today._

_James doesn't think he'd be able to follow through with his intentions if he had to resort on leaning on another for help. He_ _reasons that he's had four years to think things over, four years and he's landed on his feet despite how difficult it had been. If he has to rely on another just to make one simple_ phone call _(even if it does represent so much more, he doesn't know how he'll ever move forward. When it comes down to it, more than anything, James_ wants _to move forward in his life. No matter what the ultimate outcome turns out to be._

_Today is the day, his brain has been drilling this into reality at every possible instance. And who is James to argue with himself?_

 

_James calls Bruce._

 

+.+

 

Maybe James should have worried more about his role as an enabler in this relationship, but he didn't go a day without being thankful for Lawrence's affinity for using alcohol as a coping mechanism. It was as if the man were developing a sixth sense for whenever James needed to spend the night getting drunk off his ass, which seemed more often than not recently.

Without fail, whenever James was beginning to feel like things were building up, Lawrence would show up at the end of James' work shift with a simple, “I've heard this new bar has sours we have to try,” or simply pulling up to his apartment with a quick text ' _come on_ _loser we're getting drunk_.'

The thing is, Lawrence was a well known regular on the bar scene. James found it extremely amusing how much of a celebrity the man is treated. Even the so called 'new' bars that Lawrence had been 'dying to try out' know who he is the second he walked in through the door. More often than not the man would arrive only to have a booth set away for the two of them. Either these alcohol binges weren't quite as spontaneous as Lawrence would have liked James to believe, or the man's 'alcoholic dependency' as Matt so nicely put it had a reputation the preceded himself.

Often another one of the guys would tag along for the evening, this night it happened to be Sean who joined the two of them. James watched happily as Spoole got carded on their way in. "We're all adults here sweetheart," he winked at the man checking Sean's ID, while James watched the situation with amused glee. "I know poor Spoole here looks every bit the twelve year old we think him to be, but there's no arguing that his license checks out."

"You're twelve" Sean muttered while putting away his wallet and pulling James further into the bar, with Lawrence trailing behind the two of them. He turned around with a giggle, "Remind me why we like him?"

"You're _both_ twelve, and it's because he can drink you under the table."

"Is that supposed to be hard?" James laughed as Sean gives him a tiny growl. "Ahh Sean don't be mad. We love Drunk Spoole, Drunk Spoole is a real hit."

Both Sean and Lawrence raised an eyebrow at this.

"Well, _you know_. The drunk equivalent to a home run."

Lawrence laughed as he wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders, subtly directing them to a booth set off in the corner of the room, giving the three as much privacy as could be afforded in such a public place. "You haven't had a drop of alcohol and you're already speaking in nonsense. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,” he teased while the other two slid into the booth. “You two behave while I go get the drinks alright?" and with that he was already half way to the bartender.

Lawrence does not wait around when it comes to his alcohol.

James doesn't realize he's been staring after Lawrence with a wistful grin until Sean bumps his arm, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You're in a mood tonight,” Sean commented lightly, his voice deceptively casual. He's staring at James with a wide eyed interest, as if what he was about to say would be the most important thing in the room. So yeah James sort of figured Sean already knew what was on his mind.

“You think so?” He hedged, while he turned to look for Lawrence again. Seeing that the man was already returning, juggling the three drinks in his arms, James shuffled further along the seat so the he was pressed more tightly against Sean. It's not that he doesn't want to talk about the subject, James just doesn't know what he wants to say.

Lawrence reached the table and handed the two their drinks, cluing into the conversation gaining some weight to it as he slides onto Sean's other side, putting his arm around Sean's back. After taking a drink of his beer, he quirked an amused eyebrow at James. “It's okay tough guy, you can cry on my shoulder.” He followed that with a smirk. “I won't judge you for it.”

Even as Sean gave a small “Don't be an asshole Larr,” James laughed because its always easy speaking with Lawrence. Because where Sean was too nice and too thoughtful, way too careful of stepping on toes, James knew it wasn't in flippancy but instead due to the fact that Lawrence cared much more for honesty. James could rely on him to be a serious and thoughtful confidant when necessary, even when the man was well on his way to getting intoxicated. “Are you drunk already Lawrence? We just got here.”

“You're cute and I really like that about you, its one of your best features right after your perfect bubble butt. But you're also extremely dumb.” He replied easily. “I don't drag you out here for my benefit.”

“Now I know that's a lie,” James laughed before taking a sip out of his drink so that he had an excuse to delay responding to Sean for a small while longer.

“I'll take any excuse to drink, yes, but you can't keep bottling this shit up James. It's not going to end pretty.”

And, well, _yeah_. James knew that already.

The other two guys wait patiently as James lowered his bottle, idly passing the object back and forth between his hands. “I talked to Bruce this morning.”

Lawrence hummed into his bottle, obviously already aware that it had happened, while Sean reached out to grab at one of James' hands, putting a stop to his nervous motion. “Is this a good thing?” Sean asks, cradling James' hand between his own. “Because this seems like it should be a good thing?”

James looked away from Sean because the boy was always too bright to look at, but it seemed especially so in the dimness of the bar. “Sure? I guess,” he used his one free hand to drink again. He doesn't think Sean has even touched his at this point, while Lawrence seems contently on his way to his second round. “Joel texted me afterwards – which reminds me that we need a talk about you giving strange boyfriends my number Spoole, I don't even know the guy yet – but he was super supportive so.”

“We all want you both to be happy,” Sean replied, his serious expression giving way to a pleased grin. “Joel is a terror that I'm more than happy to share with you.”

“You're all assholes; how do I find any of you attractive?” James found himself smiling as well, even if he was still feeling uncertain. That was probably the most off putting part about the whole thing – figuring out the Bruce situation was enough of a strain on James' mental capacities but it was now the added stress of not wanting to let down five other extremely awesome guys. James knew he was being silly, that they were the sort who would be accepting no matter what the outcome ultimately was, but James didn't want to disappoint anyone.

“It's our undeniable charm and wit,” Lawrence laughed as James finally looked back over at the two. Sean coughed softly, drawing Jame's gaze to his own.

“I don't want to bring up something you'd rather not talk about tonight, so you don't have to answer if you don't want to-” He stops, a mildly annoyed expression dawning as James pokes at his cheeks. Sean puffs them out, making James and Lawrence laugh. “James?”

James squeezed his hand and replied with an insincere, “Sorry, but you look like a chipmunk when you get all flustered.” He winked, “It's kind of the best thing ever. Of all time.”

“Spoole, if you don't get to the point, he'll never let you ask.” At this James throws Lawrence his own small cheeks-out pout.

“Rude, excuse you, I'm perfectly capable of not deflecting.”

 

“I know you and Bruce used to date, but he's speaks about it even less than you do. So I don't actually know what happened between the two of you?” It was halfway between question and statement and had James wincing reflexively. There was a difference between knowing what Sean was going to ask and actually having to answer said question.

“We dated for a bit, obviously. It didn't work out.”

“That is.. unsurprisingly unspecific.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn't even tell you much more beyond that. One day we're doing well, the next Bruce is leaving town and wants nothing to do with me.”

“What?”

James took another drink from his bottle only to find that he had emptied it. He reaches past Sean to steal his mostly-empty drink for himself, even as Lawrence waved over a waiter. “We never really talked about the why behind it, is the thing. One day we're good, the next Bruce is leaving with barely a goodbye. It was super shitty.”

Sean dropped his hand and turned to Lawrence. “Did you know this?” The spectacled man sighed, glancing between the two others.

“Spoole, this is a conversation that none of us are drunk enough to be having right now.” James reached across the table to knock his glass on Lawrence's own bottle.

“So you did know?”

“Hey Spoole, it's okay man.” James reached out to ruffle his hair. “It's all in the past and that bullshit.”

Sean knocked his hand away, “You shouldn't be the one reassuring me.”

“You're the one that's freaking out.”

“Sorry,” he muttered in response, still sounding irate. “I just never thought was that type of guy, you know, someone who would just walk out on a person he loved.”

At this James looks over Sean's shoulder at Lawrence, smiling sadly at the other man. Lawrence had kept out of the discussion so far, and James could understand it. Sean is young, James didn't know exactly how much relationship experience the younger man had before falling in with this crowd, but James certainly remembers being that young and that idealistic. He had learned from his mistakes, but he really hoped that Sean wouldn't have to go through the same eye opening that James had.

“We all do stupid shit when we're young,” he turned back to Sean, molding himself tighter to the smaller man's side. “I had made some pretty big assumptions about what being Bruce and James meant, as a couple, and didn't really understand Bruce's side of it. I still don't, but I can at least recognize where I went wrong. We'll work out the rest.” Seeing Sean get all bent out of shape in his defense was pretty funny, adorably kind, but outright hilarious since the man was more puppy than knight in shining armor. The realization had James laughing from where he turned his head into Sean's shoulder. “You're so cute,” he reached out to flick the bill of Sean's hat, only to hit air. James looked up, frowning as he realized why Sean had gone hatless for the night.

“You still have my hat, asshole,” Sean sounded entirely too smug as he reached out to catch James' floating hand, interlocking their fingers.

“You'll get it back eventually, that still doesn't mean I don't miss your stupid face wearing it. Also, you have other hats, Sherlock. I didn't steal _all_ of them.”

After that the night gets infinitely more laid back, which James knows gave Lawrence a sigh of relief. No matter how amazing it would have been to get Sean riled up further, he'd rather the other didn't try and start World War III against one of his boyfriends over something he didn't even need to worry about. James was a big boy who could be an adult in situations like that. The bar that they're in is more along the lines of middle-aged casual drinking than the young and single scene that James was most used to attending. So while the music wasn't the thudding grunge of scene angst, there was still a live musician who had taken to playing acoustic covers of the top forty's chart.

Like any slightly buzzed man in his mid-twenties who forgets he's not currently in a club, when James when they hear the first chords of a indiscriminate pop tune - “Don't pretend you don't know all the words to this song, James.” “ITS TAYLOR SWIFT, SPOOLE. OF _FUCKING COURSE_ I DO.” - he rushes to drag the poor unfortunate souls around him onto the dance floor.

Or in this case, the open space in front of the musical artist's lounge that separates it from the rest of the bar goers.

Nevertheless, the night quickly devolved into a drunken James forcing Sean to flail in an uncoordinated fashion that could hardly be described as dancing, because, as James so politely put it “Get your ass out here and dance with me Spoole. You are so cute; we have to dance or I am going to _die_.”

When he tried to pull Lawrence in too, he just smiled from where he's been recording the entire debacle with his phone. “Oh I'm plenty fine right here, thank you.”

“Hey!” Sean squawked in perceived unfairness. “Why do I have to dance if Lawrence doesn't?”

“Someone has to send a play by play to the boys at home. They'd be really upset with me if they found out they'd missed out on you drunk, Spoole.”

James beamed at this. “See! I told you! Drunk Spoole is a real hit with the fellas!”

For someone who is naturally graceful, in his drunken state James looked more akin to a newborn gazelle attempting to fall against the equally bumbling antics of a disgruntled parrot – composed entirely of flailing limbs and stumbling over each other's feet even as they wrap around each other. At the time James paid no mind, but later he'd wonder how the hell they weren't kicked out for being such a disturbance. (He would chalk it up to Lawrence's influential patronage.) The musician was also lenient with the two of them, seemingly finding their abhorrent dancing amusing. When James took to shouting out requests – which was really unnecessary since he was literally _right in front_ of the stage – the musician.

“For the love of god, James, stop requesting Mambo No. 5. She's already played it three times already!”

“But this band stand is a'scratchin' Spoole!”

Eventually James started to come down from his alcohol-induced high. Lawrence must be the first to notice, because even before James realizes himself that he'd started to lean too heavily on Sean, Lawrence was there with an arm around his shoulder, leaning James onto the larger man instead. "come on Flashdance, let's get you home."

Lawrence left James sitting in their booth as he went to settle the tab, and Sean ran off to use the bathroom. It's a mix of coming off his high and genuine exhaustion that caused James to not realize someone was approaching his table until they stood right next to him.

“I could tear you in half.”

James startled, half turning to see a man leaning over him. James wasn't a stranger to unwanted attention, but this non sequitor came as a surprise. Putting aside the vulgarity of the statement, James had been so wrapped up in his night out with Lawrence and Spoole, that he hadn't given any of the bar goers a passing thought. He hadn't even considered that anyone would pay him any mind. “I think you're in the wrong type of bar buddy.”

The man takes a step closer, and even in his hazy state this causes James to blink. He's rocking the suburban dad look, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing except for how he's boxing James into the booth. Unsettled, James sat up straighter. “Is that flattering? Should I be flattered?" He was a hundred percent not interested and wasn't afraid to let the man know it.

“Who's your new friend, James?” God bless Lawrence Sonntag and his perfect timing. The stranger raised a brow as he turned his head towards Lawrence.

“Oh heya Law, I actually don't know who this is. I think he wants to take me to the bone zone though,” James groused. The man stepped back back as Lawrence moved to put himself between the man and James. James moved to stand up, finally regaining his bubble of personal space, but he still felt slightly off balance with the two towering over him. Lawrence stopped him with a hand to his shoulder as he addressed the other man.

“James, huh?" He was watching James as he said this, eyes slowly leaving his face to examine Lawrence instead, flashing his teeth in a twisted grin. This had Lawrence frowning, and had James frowning as well because he was, while not as inebriated as he had been even twenty minutes earlier, he was still far too drunk to be able to handle the Bad Vibes these two were throwing each other. He half expected Lawrence to ask him to hold his glasses so that he could throw down with the man then and there.

“Can we help you?” Lawrence asked, but it didn't sound like a question to James.

The bartender shouts out the final call for the night, but that doesn't do anything to faze the stare down the two men are having. They were locked in some sort of silent battle James had no way of understanding for a few more moments – or minutes. It seemed a lot longer than just a few seconds – before the stranger laughed, loosening his shoulders.

“Nah. That's my cue.” He looked James over once more before he turned to leave. “You boys have a good night.”

Lawrence finally stepped away from James as he follows the man out of the bar with his eyes, not looking away as James stood. “Where's Sean?”

“In the bathroom-”

“I'm right here.” Sean replied, as he approached them. “What's wrong Lawrence?”

Lawrence broke his stare down of the bar entrance to glance briefly at James when he asked,“Did you know that guy?” James watched as the two shared a look before turning back to him.

“No,” Lawrence said slowly. “We don't.”

James could almost hear the 'but...' being left to float in the air between the three of them.

“Look,” James sighed. He had been having a good night, they all were, so it seemed silly to push a topic that Lawrence was obviously so worked up about. “He's gone, we're all tired; let's just go.”

“Let's go back to ours, okay Lawrence?”

Lawrence reached over to rest his hand over the nape of Sean's neck. “Oh, sure. I clearly know what you mean Spoole. The 'ours' that is my house? Oh wait, no of course you mean the 'ours' that is your apartment.”

“No one would ever refer to the box that Spoole lives in as an 'apartment.' That would be way too generous. Also, Shotgun,” James smirked as Sean let out a petulant 'Hey!' while they finally made their way out to Lawrence's car. This was when James realized that he and Sean were stumbling far too much compared to Lawrence's steady presence at their side.

“How are you the sober one in this situation?” He asked as Lawrence unlocked the car and James hopped into the passenger seat. Lawrence held open the backseat door for Sean to shuffle his way in before making his way to the driver's side.

“Someone had to chaperone you two children.” He finally replied as he got settled, twisting the key in the ignition.

“I feel ripped off,” James muttered, sinking into his seat as the car rumbled to a start. He watched Lawrence with lidded eyes as the man rolled his car out of the parking lot and onto the road. “Duped, even. I specifically remember being promised you getting drunk off your ass tonight.” The passing lights from the road reflected off of Lawrence's glasses, lighting his face as he side eyed the exhausted James.

“You don't seem to realize this, so it bears repeating. You may be an idiot, but now you're _our_ idiot. We'll always be here to help you get things of your system.”

James' eyes slide away from Lawrence's profile to where Sean is seated in the back seat. He's typing dutifully away on his phone; James can't tell if he was texting or playing some mobile game. Probably the latter, if James had to bet money on it. “Are you going to tell me who that guy was.”

At this, Sean glances up, acknowledging that he was still paying attention to James and Lawrence conversation even if he wasn't actively participating.

“I already said, I don't know him.” This caused James to sigh; both parties could play aloof at the line of questioning but James was annoyingly resilient – going off of the blasé sounding reply, Lawrence was already prepared for it.

“Maybe you don't, but that still sounds like a lie,” at this Lawrence reached over the middle console to lay a comforting hand on James' thigh. He slides his gaze from his hand, up along Lawrence's arm until finally he came to meet Lawrence's eyes once more. One he had Jame's attention Lawrence let himself look back at the roadway.

“Like you said, that guy was a dick and just trying to grab some attention. You don't need to worry about it.”

“You saying that doesn't give me any peace of mind.” James watched him for a couple of seconds before sighing once more. It was nearing 1am and he didn't think he had enough wits about him to barrel through the conversation."I think you're just jealous he was flirting with me and not you or Spoole."

“Don't drag me into this!” Sean piped up from the back even as Lawrence hummed thoughtfully.

“Not quite."

"Man Spoole, you're missing out. He was rocking this rugged, wilderness dad look to counter Lawrence's dorky anime dadness. Good contrasts, could be super hot."

"I'd like to think my tastes at the moment are a great deal more muscley, protein-obsessed hunk."

James turned to press his face into the glass, watching silently for a moment as lights of passing cars raced outside of the window. "How is it that you're the sober one in this situation?" he groaned again. "It should be impossible that I can barely string a sentence together, even about boning, and yet you're competent enough to drag us home.”

"Believe me, I would like nothing more than to be wasted right now,” Lawrence replied, squeezing James leg once more before moving his hand back to the steering wheel. “But someone had to do it.”

Sean leaned forward over the middle console, tapping on James shoulder. James blinked his eyes open at this, not having realized he had closed them in the first place. “Hey James, I was planning on streaming Smite tomorrow night. Do you want to join in?"

"And get our collective asses pushed it? Sure, why not."

By the time Lawrence pulled into the driveway of his house, James more asleep than awake. He opened his eyes blearily to Sean poking at his face from where he stood next to the open passenger side door. “We're here James,” his voice was dropped low to a whisper, but even that had James wincing and blinking his eyes blearily. “Come on, you lug. Let's get you to bed.”

“Where are we?” James asked, even as his eyes drifted shut again. Sean reached across James to unbuckle his seat belt and gently tugged at his shoulders to get James to roll himself out of the car. James drapes himself over Sean's shoulders; he was far too heavy for Sean to support all on his own, but he made due with small shuffles as he moved James forward towards the front door.

“This is Lawrence's place.”

“Hey Sean,” Lawrence called from farther ahead, where he was digging in his pockets for his keys. While his voice wasn't a whisper like Sean's was, he had pitched his voice at a subdued tone as to not carry far. “Did any of the guys mention stopping in for the night? The lights are on.”

“Not to me.”

In his drowsy state, James found himself becoming aware of a few things nearly simultaneously. One, as Lawrence opened the front door, a battle cry too loud for the time of night and for someone on the verge of feeling their hang over like James was. (Also, James thought “ _Helloooo boys_ ” was hardly confrontational and not at all a conventional battle call, but who was he to nitpick it.) Second, the something emitting the cry had also launched itself into Lawrence's arms, with Lawrence receiving them with a wide grinned glee James had yet to see the man emote. He emoted really prettily though, and James found himself staring at his crinkled eyes just a thought too long. Third, and about as much as the now startling awake James could take in, Lawrence and this newcomer had their faces mashed together so intensely and for long enough that James started to wonder if neither of them found air necessary.

As the two pulled apart from each other, Lawrence lowering the smaller man from where he had managed to wrap both his legs around Lawrence's waist, Sean began to pull James forward, through the threshold of the house. 

“Joel!” he shouted happily, his hand still wrapped around James' even as he reached out for the other man. And, yeah, now things made sense. Joel, while still a couple of inches shorter than James, had some height on Sean and was able to pull him into his arms with ease. “When did you get back? We were supposed to pick you up tomorrow!” Sean buzzed happily into Joel's ear as they are wrapped around each other. James could see Matt speaking with Lawrence behind them as both watched the reunion with fond looks on their faces.

“I got back early, obviously,” he pinched at Sean's cheek before turning to James. He raised a brow at where James and Sean were still tethered together, causing Sean to flush pink. 

“James, this is Joel.”

Hands were already reaching for his face. With both hands bracketing his cheeks, Joel pulled his head down to meet James' lips and, well, even for as chaste as the kiss was – nothing more than a brief press of dry lips against his own – when Joel finally pulled back, James opened eyes he hadn't even realized he had closed.

"You're my favorite." The words are out of his mouth without any forethought, but he can't be pressed to backtrack, not with Joel smiling up at him so warmly. As far as first meetings went, James was not at all unhappy with this one – his exhaustion aside.

“Darling,” Joel finally dropped his arms from James' face with a gentle pat, beaming at the taller man as he, laughing, turned to walk farther into the apartment, away from the literal door frame they had been macking on. "You don't even know the half of it."

James watched his hips sway and yeah, no, he knew that Joel did that  _ entirely deliberately _ . James couldn't fault him for it though; if James had hips like that, he'd wear nothing but spandex shorts and would walk everywhere for the rest of his life.

"You're drooling" Matt interrupts his  _ completely innocent _ mental aside as the man appeared next to him and Sean, pushing at James' shoulder. 

"What, no," James replied, still more than a little bit dazed. It was Sean's delighted giggle and Matt's amused look that made James realize he had probably paused too long for the response to be even the smallest amount of believable. "Okay so maybe there's a little bit of drool involved,” he backtracked mildly. “But have you  _ seen  _ your boyfriend lately?"

“No, we haven't,” Sean was smiling. “That's why him being home is such a surprise.”

Matt nudged Sean with his foot. "You get James to bed okay; he's dead on his feet."

“What about you guys?”

“We have some," there was a small pause as Matt glanced down the hallway to where a muffled of clanking could be heard; Joel and Lawrence weree messing around in the kitchen. "business to take care of before we turn in."

Nodding, Sean was already wrapping an arm around James waist, pulling him deeper into the home. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, the guest room awaits."

James had enough awareness to call a soft "Good night, Matt " before he let himself get dragged from the room. It was difficult for him to remember what happened after than. James can fuzzily recall Sean tugging at his shoes, the smaller man struggling with an unresponsive James to get his jeans down. "I am too buzzed to be dealing with a giant baby" he had muttered, while James settled into the bed.

"Who're you calling baby, baby.”

Sean may or may not have kissed his forehead with a quick "I'll be right back" to which James, now this is completely unconfirmed, but James may have asked a sleepy "Are Bruce and Adam here?"

"I'll go find out James, just go to sleep."

“I feel like I'm in middle school and we're having our first slumber party.”

“Just go to sleep, dumbass.”

He wouldn't have been able to argue with that even if he had wanted to.

 

+.+

 

_It's easier said than done._

_The amount of time James spends staring at the cell phone in his hand can't be considered healthy. Picking up the phone had been a daunting task in itself, James' gut twisting in a way that nearly had him backing down. He felt like he was going into fight he had no chance of winning._

_(Sometimes he thinks he never had a chance, even from the moment James first met Bruce)_

_If picking up the phone was one battle, calling Bruce's number was another. James is never one short for words, but at this moment his brain was blank. His thoughts not able to process much else besides the haze of fear._

_James was scared, of quite a few things at that particular moment, but this was a fear that had been breathing down his neck for four years and now that it brokered confrontation James didn't know if he had the strength to face it._

_Maybe he didn't._

 

_+.+_

 

When James woke up he found himself in a tangle of limbs. It was jarring at first, as he hazily tried to recall the night before and where he might be. It had actually been a long time since he had awoken with a warm body next to him, let alone wrapped around him like it was natural. Sean's face was smashed into his shoulder, his legs stuck between Jame's own. As spectacular of a view it was watching how soft Sean looked while asleep, James tried to wiggle his way out of the younger man's tight grip. It took longer than James would be comfortable admitting to get disentangled from the mass of limbs that enveloped him – seriously though Sean was  _ small _ how was this even possible – before he slipped off of the bed. 

His jeans were sitting on a chair next to the bed. James looked down and yep he was definitely only in a shirt and his boxers. He could vaguely recall Sean helping him out of his pants the night before, and he had to grin at the thought. He was going to have so much fun teasing Sean about that later. There was a small amount of light filtering in through the window of this strange room, brightening the bare interior. It wasn't a small room, in fact it puts most of James' own apartment to shame in terms of size, but it was obviously not a room used very often. Grabbing his shoes as well, James softly made his way across the room and quietly out the door. There was a hall clock steadily blinking 8am, which was surprising and not at the same time. James was naturally an early riser – he couldn't think of the last time he slept in past 7am – but he obviously had had a trying night the day before. Even freshly awake he could feel the remnants of exhaustion clawing at his brain.

Taking some experimental steps through the alien layout of the house, James easily found a door leading to what he assumed to be a guest bathroom. He quickly shut the door and used the amenities, making sure to splash water over his face and rinse his mouth out so that he could wash away the grimy aftereffects of the previous night's excitement.

He followed the sounds of small clicks and thuds, which James figured to be the sound of cabinets opening and closing. He found his assessment to be true, as he found himself in a kitchen.

He also found himself face to face with Bruce.

“Oh,” he can't help but exhale, not quite certain why he found it so shocking. Sure they hadn't been in a room together long enough to have a civil conversation in years but, he really should have been prepared to find any of the boys. “Hey.”

Bruce jerks around from where he had been messing with a coffee pot, his eyes wide until as they landed on James. “James! Oh, good morning!”

James rolled his eyes at this. “Don't try and pretend that you didn't know I was here idiot.” He shuffled a bit farther into the room. He looked around, taking in the generic brand furniture inhabiting the room. “I didn't figure Lawrence as an IKEA guy.”

He looked back over to find Bruce grinning at him. It was an ungodly level of unfair how attractive the man looked in front of him. He was still decked out in his lame combination of worn down t-shirt, distressingly plaid shorts, and too-long-to-be-taken-seriously white socks. His forehead was just as large as James had remembered it, though his facial hair was a touch fuller. Standing in front of an open window, Bruce was back lit by the blinding force of the still rising sun.

And there James was, a rumpled mess in sleep worn clothes from the previous day. Embarrassment wasn't the right term for what James was feeling at the moment, but it certainly wasn't the ideal situation for him.

An ungodly fucking level of unfair.

And yet Bruce was still standing there, smiling at James like he couldn't be happier.

“What?” He asked. James felt so off his game it was hard to try and sound defensive.

“Nothing,” Bruce shrugged. “It's nice to see you, is all.”

“Uh huh,” James stood awkwardly in the room, feeling flushed and uncertain what the best response would be. His brain was bouncing between 'fuck you' and 'fuck me' though either hardly seemed proper. “Should I have woken Spoole up? I'm pretty certain he didn't set an alarm last night.”

“Nah, if he's late to work than that's his problem.” Bruce stepped to the side, gesturing at the now blinking coffee pot. “Help yourself.”

James took this as an invitation to step closer as he asked, “Um, where do you keep your cups? I'm like, _Windwaker_ levels of lost right now.”

Bruce laughed lightly as he pointed towards one of the higher cupboard shelves. “Did you ever end up beating that game?”

“Eventually, yeah. When have you known me to allow a cartoon pretty boy get the best of me?” James snorted as he finally crossed the remaining space between the two as he went to dig around in the cupboard Bruce had indicated. As he grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink, he ended up wrapping both hands around the mug so it gave him something to do with them. Without it, James knew he would end up flailing his hands around as he spoke, which Bruce would no doubt read as the nervous gesture it was. “Wait, you probably shouldn't answer that.”

“I can recall a number of times, yeah.”

There was a lull in the conversation as they both inhaled their drinks.

Just as the silence was starting to itch at James' nerves, Bruce threw out a casual, “Hey, did you see the announcement trailer for the new Medal of Honor game?” The question had James' eyebrow twitching even as Bruce grinned into his own coffee mug.

“If you mean, 'Am I ready for yet another in an endless series of 30fps army simulators?' Then yes. So ready.”

“How did I forget how cynical you are?”

James scoffed at that. “I don't hear you saying I'm wrong.”

“Mister James 'I hate all video games' Willems.”

“I'm just being realistic you _ass_!” This had Bruce laughing hard, his voice getting wheezy like it always did when he was genuinely amused. James felt himself relaxing and let out a chuckle of his own. It felt familiar; as if they had just pressed resume on their dynamic that had been stuck in a years-long pause. “The kitchen is an erection-free zone, you two.”

Both of their eyes immediately dart to the kitchen entrance where Joel was leaning against the door frame. James turned to look at Bruce and realized for the first time just how closely they were standing next to each other; close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other every time they raised their glass for a drink. He smiled weakly at Bruce, even as Joel continued. “But don't mind me, continue with your mating dance – pretend I'm not even here.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Good morning Joel.”

“Good morning, Babe,” James watched from his spot against the counter as Joel crossed the room, throwing his arms around Bruce's neck when he stepped forward to meet him. Even though the greeting was a great deal more tame than the heartfelt homecoming from the night before, James couldn't help but feel a jab at his heart. He felt something that vaguely resembled envy, but considering these were both men he had an unveiled mutual interest in, he didn't understand the feeling. He and Bruce were barely back on speaking terms and he had only met Joel the night before – neither gave him him true justification for the spike of jealousy thrumming in his chest.

 _Oh_.

It hit him suddenly, as he realized what he found so off putting.

It was the intimacy. The two in front of him were doing little more than standing in each other's space; Bruce's hands on Joel's hips while Joel's had reached up, both arms slung loosely around Bruce's neck. The scene was all distressingly fond and James had a front row seat to it. He instinctively found himself looking away, his feelings of being out of depth that had been hanging over him since James first woke returned again in full force. It was the feeling on intrusion into a world he had little part in that had his gaze dragging along the floor to find something less painful, while the tight hum of jealousy beat steadily on. It was the feeling on intrusion into a world he had little part in that had his gaze dragging along the floor to find something less painful, while the tight hum of jealousy beat steadily on.

James looked back up as the two step apart, Joel's hand still rested on Bruce's arm. “Heya Blue,” the shorter man chimed at James.

“Blue? I'm pretty sure that's a first.”

“Are you kidding me? Those baby blues are magnificent; they deserve to have sonnets written about them.”

James smiled at the genuine enthusiasm in his voice. “Thanks man.”

“Joel shut the fuck up. Its too early for your theater bullshit.”

Joel ignored Bruce in favor of winking at James. “Bruce fights this because he's thought such ardent thoughts about your eyes too. He just doesn't want his bad boy rep to be tarnished.”

“He's in for a rude awakening then,” James laughed.

“You two are in cahoots together,” Bruce muttered, shaking his head. “You've just met, how are you already teamed up against me?”

Feeling himself regain some mental footing, James let himself get dragged back into the seamless banter and shade the two were throwing at each other. Eventually Bruce excused himself, having to get get ready to leave for work soon – as Joel explained it, Lawrence and Matt had already left for the morning, leaving him to lock up after the last of them had gone on their way. He had returned a day earlier than expected from his business trip so he had the day to rest, or as he put it: “Adam gave me the day off.”

“Oh, that's right - you all work together.”

James could remember Matt mentioning it before, during one of those many lunches he had along with Sean and Lawrence. Joel nodded in reply as they soft ambient morning was interrupted by a screaming Sean Poole. “Uhh,” James wondered aloud. “He's not dying is he?”  
“Nah, Bruce is waking him up.”

“Ah, fair enough.”

Soon enough Bruce was herding a rumpled Sean out of the door. He stopped to reach out for James as he passed though, his hand hesitating in the air before latching itself onto his shoulder. “Hey, I know things are shitty between us right now, and I'll work on that. I will. And I know you've been hanging out with the other guys, which is great! It is! But it had me thinking-”

As amusing as James found the man stumbling over his words, he saved him from the misery. “Is this supposed to be you asking me on a date? Because you're blowing it man.” Bruce immediately shut up, his face turning red.

“Just shut up and go out with me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” James teased, feeling more confident than he thought he might. Even Bruce seemed surprised at how easily James accepted the proposition.

“Awesome!” He squeezed James' shoulder once before dropping it back to his side as Sean shouted an impatient 'We're going to be late!' from the waiting car. “Whose fault do you think that is?” He responded loudly, before turning back to James. “I'll call you, alright?”

And then he was out the door. James watched as the two drove away, a small smile playing at his lips. When he felt Joel come up besides him, he turned to see the other man regarding him with a raised brow. “Do you want to meet the love of my life, Billie the Dog?”

James, of course, said yes which apparently was the right answer. He and Joel spend the majority of their Saturday at a dog park with the dog ignoring the both of them for squirrels and boy dogs. James really didn't think he would have preferred it any other way.

 

-X-

 

"So.. What exactly were you expecting? A screaming match? Uncontrollable waterworks?"

"That's the problem _I don't know_."

"Then why the fuck are you complaining. It sounds like a win to me."

"Adam, would you please, for the love of my sanity, put that sandwich down and just let me weave my tale of woes while you pat me on the back and say ' _There, there my dear James. Bruce is a dick who doesn't deserve a minute of your precious and juicy fruit smelling breath, which we all known is the best smelling gum_ fuck you Bubblicious."

The monologue worked, if by worked James intended on getting Adam to put down the goddamn roast beef carver he had been munching on for the past ten minutes all the while ignoring the emotional younger man lying on the ground next to his chair. He turned to give James a withering glare - so totally a win- as James huffed indignantly, a faux attempt at playing annoyed that he knew would have Adam rolling his eyes. He rolled over onto his back from where he was stretched out on the floor. They're in an apartment that he knew to be Joel's, although the man was stuck in work meetings all day. He had barely known Adam for a handful of days now, but as James – and he was sure the others had hoped – upon meeting they fell into a rapport almost instantly.

Adam was _funny_. Funny in a way that had James laughing until it hurt his stomach; in a way that he hadn't realized he'd been missing. And he knew Adam felt similarly, if not the same way, about him because the guy had tendency of looking at James when he thought the man wouldn't notice that was entirely too _hung from the moon_ considering they had barely known each other for five days.

Adam was also _Hot_. Hot in a way that had James constantly biting at his lips so that he didn't blurt out something too unbecoming. Because "Take me right here you magnificent specimen" might be too strong of a come on for someone he barely met, even it it was James saying it. Especially considering it was a man he was pseudo-maybe-sorta dating along with five others.

 

They met through Matt, who had taken to James' apartment like a puppy to a treat. James thinks it was because Matt was fascinated by the bonefide bachelor pad slash man cave he was working with. James couldn't entirely help it, considering his meager living wages even when he had an industry job.

He was happy with the apartment though, even if it was a glorified walk-in closet. Small two person table, full size couch that had seen better years, and a ratty chunk of wood that James generously called a desk made up his main room – he obviously didn't host a lot of company. His bedroom was slightly better, his bed was small, along with his tv; despite a love of games, he only owned an Xbox 360 that he'd had since his college years but he reasons that away by not needing next gen when you can just replay the classics. That, along with a series of framed comic books that lined the walls were the only objects in the home that weren't purely for practical means.

The first time Matt visited and saw these, the layers of laid-back badass fell away and his inner nerd started gushing, it was an unexpected outcome but James was more than happy to run with it - granted that just meant Matt became a dorky badass that could – and would – totally still kick James' ass, his apartment or not. That night they had ended up having a heated discussion slash argument on the merits of Superman versus Batman, Young Justice versus the Justice League.

(It involved a lot of fanboy pride “You _would_ be an Aqua Lad fan, oh man how do you even pretend to be cool,” followed by a “You outright _heathen_ , Dick Grayson _wishes_ he could fill Batman's shoes” and “Speedy is a dick.” “Yeah man, true that.” It turns out that was the one thing they could agree on.) James was also firmly on the side that Superman had ruined the integrity of comics as of modern standards (“Three words. Death of Superman. Boom.” “That's four words asshole.” “Oh shut the fuck up.”) until before they knew it, it was 3am and Matt was fielding calls from a worried boyfriend.

"I'm fine, Adam. Shit yeah I know. You _know_ I know that. We honestly just lost track of time,” Matt paused, his face grimaced even as he glanced at James. "I'm going to regret this I can already tell,” he muttered, his eyes rolling away from James as he instead planted his eyes firmly on the ceiling. "Your boy here is a batman enthusiast," he said dryly. Matt seemed expectantly defeated, not even trying to respond to the words now buzzing in his ear even even though James sat there in confusion. He couldn't hear the other side of the conversation but if Matt's actions paired with the now rolling of his eyes was any indication, James thought he might be able to assume what was happening on the other end of that call.

"Ooh I get it now," James drawled lowly, turning a sweet smile on Matt as the other stared flatly at him, only to wince at a loud outburst in his ear "What Matty, scared that you won't be able to refute the fact that Superman's basically the John Cena of the comics universe?"

"You haven't even met each other and you're already ganging up on me. I don't think I want to be there when you finally get in the same room with each other," Matt's tone was his patent 'I am so done with you children go have a timeout and think on your wrongs' voice, but James knew it was just Matt's way of toning down the fond. He opens his mouth to make a joke about Matt, kittens, and pussy Supermans but Matt cuts him off. "It's 3am Adam,” he replied into the phone, no nonsense. “And we've both already -" it was his turn to be interrupted and he sat, listening to Adam before finally turning to James. "He's trying to invite himself over so he can have orgasmic fanboy bliss with you. He'll literally keep you up the entire rest of the night talking about this shit, it won't hurt his feelings if you say no."

James just grinned at this. " _Hash tag Team No Sleep_. I like it, we should make t-shirts."

 

Matt groaned but told Adam to come over. So he was not terribly opposed to the idea. When James buzzed the man in fifteen minutes later, Adam was... not what he had been expecting. Going off the descriptions hinted at by the other boys, James had been picturing a six foot hardass, skin covered head to foot with ink, handlebar mustache for added douchey posturing. What ended up walking through his door was a puppy inhabiting a human body, although the man did have a couple of tattoos inking his arms. James looked forward to discovering those for himself more closely, as he took in the adorable – there really was no other word to describe him, where he was hugging Matt – his dark brunette hair a hazardous halo dusting the top of his head. He had a full beard-stache combo that made him look dignified, where James would end up looking messy.

 

Meeting Adam was, well, if asked James would say magical because he now knew that it would be something that would make Adam scowl darkly while his cheeks stained red - a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment that even in the short amount of time the two knew each other made James want to do anything and everything to make it happen again.

If James were being completely serious he would still say magical because there was really no denying the chemistry.

James figured any boy that had the ability to reduce his vocabulary to that of a head-over-heels crushing fifteen year old girl was a guy worth pursuing. James just happened to have the fortune of meeting six of them.

+.+

 

_The phone rings, it's placed on speaker so that James can hide his head in the palms of both hands, from his curled sitting position on his bed. He couldn't rationalize if he thought being smaller would bring comfort, or if he was still trying to hide from it. Maybe it was a little bit of both._

_The phone stops ringing, a silence now filling the small room. If James listens hard enough he thinks he might hear the soft rise and fall of breath. This is_ happening.

_He has half a mind to hang up now, before it becomes any more real, but he's emitting a small “Hey” before the thought can take any real root. H_ _is voice too hoarse and too soft, but it is snatched by a similar huff from the other end of the line. The voice distorted and imperfect through the lens of the speaker, but hauntingly familiar nonetheless._

_"Hey"_

 

_+.+_

 

"We just talked about you ass clowns for an hour and a half before he left for work," James complained, letting his voice carry through the small apartment. He hadn't moved from his nest of the ground, even as Adam thumped his way throughout the apartment. He was packing for a trip, and even though James doesn't know where its to, he does know that its business related. Joel had just gotten back from a separate trip himself, and even though he was in town James rarely got a glimpse of the man besides his frequent novels he sent James disguised as texting. 

When James had asked the other guys previously why Adam and Joel were never attending their lunch time get-togethers or their late night gaming sessions, Lawrence would explain to him that, simply,  the two along with Bruce were near constantly busy with work, either within town or on the infrequent business trip.

It made sense to James. It turned out that they're all coworkers at the same media company apparently.

Spoole was an intern in most senses of the word, he was only just graduating from uni this semester so he was about to be upgraded to a full time editor. Matt was the senior editor while Lawrence was the head writer. That's why he could only afford to attend the late night classes or bar runs, because they were post office hours. Besides those 'After Hours Fun-Time Game Hangouts slash Shenanigans' as James had taken to calling them, Matt could only attend the lunches because of his hour-long lunch breaks. Sean still only had part-time hours so his schedule was way more flexible than the others, hence him nagging James at any hour of the day.

James would totally buy this except he _knew Bruce_ and he certainly had a good grasp on the other five by now _._ He knew Bruce wasn't giving him the complete truth five years ago when they were dating, and he certainly didn't give James the real reason why they had to break up in the first place. He knew what's it was like to be lied to, or to only be told the bare minimum, because he has spent the last four years doing nothing but fixate on those small indicators. It was hard for James to reconcile the mistakes of the past, and it was even more difficult to do knowing that he didn't have all of the information outright.

And the way the guys acted, well, it all spoke of the same half truths to James. He's not sure if it was him carrying over his past baggage, or if there really was something going on with the guys that they hadn't told him yet – and he gets it too.

This, whatever _this_ is, was still new.

But it left James in a state he'd rather not be in. James was really hesitant to throw his heart into such an unknown quantity, because he's known Spoole for nearly a year at this point, and the other guys for about half that but he...

When he had first met Bruce, he had known the man for an equally short amount of time and fell so much harder for Bruce, so quickly, that he wasn't sure he could handle being fucked with again. And certainly not by Bruce.

Hopefully, it'll all come out eventually because as different as each man was from each other, James could see real devotion when it hits him in the face and what these guys had was real. Whether or not they were ready to let James into their world, well, that was on them.

James could hear Adam fumbling around in the one bedroom of the apartment. "Like, my heart is bleeding over here and all we did was talk about you lazy fucks . You're not even interesting."

“Good god are you still talking about this?” Adam called back, dragging a suitcase with him into the room. “Its been half an hour and all that's come out of your mouth is Bruce this and Bruce that. That could make a guy think you don't care about, you know, hanging out with me.”

“To be fair, hanging out with you is five hours of Halo this and Cortana that, so. At least my complaining is current. It's hip.” James popped the 'p' as Adam walked over to peer down at him. He offered James a hand up, pulling him off the ground. 

“You're ridiculous. So you two made nice and had lunch together. Why is it so bad that it went better than expected?”

James lets himself be dragged over to the apartment's only couch, a nice leather one that is way too tempting to resist sinking into. Adam plopped down next to him and James sighed into his shoulder. “I am,  like, totally down to fuck with you guys but this isn't the type of thing I can rush. You guys have been together who knows how long, this is serious shit. And,” James paused, trying to get his train of thought so that he doesn't sound like a rambling mad man. Adam wrapped his arm around James' shoulder and this was nice for James, to have that feel so completely natural to give and receive comfort from each other. “I have a lot of issues that stem mainly from Bruce, okay. I know that you boys are fine with me taking my time, dipping my feet in the shallow end of this six dick pool. You know, feel out the temperature, get to know each of you. And that's all good and fine until I start thinking about Bruce and well. News flash but I have severe attachment anxieties and Bruce is a hundred percent at the center of that so I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to just dive right in to all of,” he waved his hand in the air, gesturing at nothing. “That.”

“You're really running with that pool analogy, huh,” James looked up from his intense analysis of Adam's shoulder to see the older man looking down at him with a deadpan expression.

“You know you love me for my analogies, baby,” James waggled his eyebrows as Adam's soulless stare broke into bright-eyed laughter. The buzz of his cellphone vibrating in his pocket distracted James, who pulled out his phone to see a new text message.

>>hey dumbass tell the other dumbass to remember his toothbrush.

He smiled at this, turning his phone to show the text to Adam. “Joel is sending us sweet nothings again. I think he misses us.” 

Adam wrapped his hand around James' gently, bringing the phone closer to his face so that he could read the message. Laughing at it, he dropped his hand so that James could bring it back and type a reply. “You mean he misses  _me_ .  _I'm_ the one that's going to be gone for a week.” He muttered halfheartedly, shifting next to James to find the remote for his large tv. “Hey, do you know what's up with Spoole?”

“What do you mean?”

“He's been giving some of us the cold shoulder at work the last few days.” Adam reached past James to grab at two playstation controllers he had left sitting on his couch. “Did he say anything to you?”

James took one of the controllers from Adam as he moved to turn on the games system. 

“Oh, Joel had asked me about that too.” James raised an eyebrow as Mortal Kombat loaded onto the screen. “Speaking of, there's no way Joel actually plays this shit.”

“Oh, god no.”

“Somehow I don't think he'd appreciate you coming over and ignoring him for Uncharted, man.”

“Between Bruce and I, he hasn't been able to kick the console out yet; don't give him any ideas.”

James hummed as he chose his character, not putting a lot of thought into the game. He was appreciative that Adam had chosen a fighting game like this, where he could just perform mindless actions without being too invested on the screen. “As far as Spoole goes, he's never mentioned anything to me. Joel says he deflects his attempts too. You've known him longer than me, is this out of his normal operating system?”

“We all have spats we work through, yeah,” Adam responded. “But usually we at least know why we're being ignored. This came out of the blue, which is unusual for Sean.”

“I guess I could talk to him _again_ ,” James started before immediately raising his voice in panic. “ _Adam you can't, I'm calling_ hacks _right now, nO._ ” James watched in horror as Adam's character performed a fatality on his own. “You're not supposed to be good at this game, asshole.”

“James,” Adam talked down to him, as they waited for the next round to begin “No one is good at Mortal Kombat. You're just horribly bad.” 

“Fighting games are so lame, its all luck,” he grumbled. “Play me in a game that requires real skill. Like Psychonauts, then you would see.”

Adam glanced at James before returning his eyes to the screen, where he was once again winning. “You are aware the Psychonauts is a single player game, right?”

“Oho dear Kovic, that's why we would be playing competitive single player! I would own your ass _so hard_.”

James let out a angry “Hey!” when Adam paused the game. 

“Do we need to talk about this? Do we need to throw you a Psychonauts intervention? Because 'competitive single player' is the most lunatic thing I have ever heard. And I work with Joel!” 

“Jerk, don't pause the game right when you're about to lose!” At Adam's unamused look, James amended, “I was totally about to turn that around. I was playing it the long term.”

“If by long term, you mean you intended to lose from the start then, _yay_ congratulations you died.”

“Wow you are so rude. I'm going to go back to playing games with Spoole, he would never sass me like that,” which was a blatant lie because Sean had a whole arsenal of asinine smack talk he used regularly but that was entirely besides the point. “Look, since I'm obviously the better person between the two of us, I'll talk to him. But if there's something on his mind, I'm sure he'll bring it up sooner than later.”

“Thanks James.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don't know why you think I'd have more success than you guys, but. I'll try.”

“Hey,” Adam nudged his knee into James'. “You know you don't owe us anything. You can say no, you could even walk away and that'd be okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Adam smiled James' favorite of his smiles; the one where his eyes crinkle and his lips stretch wide, revealing a full-toothed glee. “Because we'll be here for you as long as you want us, and maybe even sometimes when you don't. That's sort of a perk of having six boyfriends.”

“Oh really? Do tell me more!”

Adam slapped James' shoulder, before he leaned over to leave a brief kiss on his cheek as he stood up from the couch.

“Shouldn't you be nice to me? I'm the one who won't be around for a week.”

“Don't forget your toothbrush!” James shouted after Adam as he moved into the kitchen.

“Shut up James.”

 

+/+

 

_The silence drags, neither party particularly eager to rush into the conversation, one they both know has been unavoidable from the start. Maybe James did a little more avoiding between the two of them, but it was all because they both knew how difficult and how_ not fun _it was going to be. James listens as there's a soft click on the other line, as if Bruce is gently closing a door. Did he interrupt one of his company meetings? Was he still at his home, and merely attempting to get some privacy from the other boys?_

_This is so shitty, James thinks. They used to be a unit, their pauses were never awkward, only stepping pads for the next line, the next conversation, the next joke. Four years of anger, hurt, confusion and James finds he might miss that most. The feeling of being so utterly connected to someone as if they were one of your own limbs. He feels none of that now, only the phantom pain of a rapport lost in time. "This is horrible," he finally says not knowing what quite he was addressing. Because so much was distorted between the two of them, it was hard to know what to even to begin to think._

_It's relieving though - he'll take any small victory at this point - because Bruce doesn't sound much better. He sounds as if this conversation, or maybe the fear of this confrontation, is affecting him like it's affecting James._

_"Yeah, it kinda is."_

_They both fall into silence again, because how do words broach this. It's impossible for James to tell the other man just how affected he is, even now, by the trauma of four years ago. How can he expect Bruce to explain to him now something he couldn't find words for four years ago? It's all very hopeless and yet, James knows that he wants to try. He's never_ not _wanted to tr, when it comes to Bruce._

_James knows it might be a bit twisted but he thinks, in a way, this is the moment. Four years, and james has been waiting for this moment that has finally come. He smiles, barely an uplift to his lips, but it's there._

“ _Hi Bruce”_

“ _Hey James.”_

 

_+\\+_

 

“You need to fucking talk to Bruce. There is an almost comical amount of irony in me being the one to saying this, but you can't ignore him any longer Sean.” There. He'd went and said it.

After days of constant nagging by a combination of Joel, Lawrence, and even Matt to an extent, James decided he had enough of being the go between. If Sean was mad at the guys for whatever reason he had, that was fine but James had to say his piece. 

“I don't know what you mean?”

“Oh, are you certain? Because I have Joel and Matt breathing down my neck wondering 'what happened to make Sean mad at us?' Bruce hasn't said a damn thing, but I know that he's getting the same stony bullshit from you.” 

Sean mashed a couple of buttons, eyes glued to the screen. Really it was like dealing with a child. 

“Sean, I'm not even holding my controller," James emphasized this by crossing his arms over his impressive chest. "and I'm still beating you."

“This is co-op James. We share a score.”

“Tough shit man. Get your ass up and go make up – or make out, or both I'm not picky – with your actual boyfriends.” This caused Sean to frown but James cut him off before he could do anything more than open his mouth to reply. “We are not arguing that brand of semantics right now, you puppy. I am more than happy to sit down and have a 'Bruce is a dick' club meeting with you and braid each others' hair as we vent the cruel injustices of the man, as long as he _actually does something_ to piss you off. You can't fight my battles for me and you sure as hell can't get angry at him, or the others, for something he did to me _four years ago_.”

“It does piss me off though!” This time he doesn't let James derail his rant, giving the larger man a stern look until he finally shut his mouth and listened. “You need to stop making this you versus the rest of us. I know we're not technically a thing, that you're taking your time. That's fine. But like it or not we're friends and we're allowed to get angry on your behalf.”

“Okay, Bruce slighted me a long time ago. What did the others do?”

“Look Bruce may have been our boyfriend longer, but we asked you to join this relationship because we care about you, not any less than Bruce.”

“So?”

“They all knew that he walked out on you, and didn't do a thing. If any of us fuck up, we need to call each other out on that.”

 

“That's..” James started laughing. Sean made a small distressed noise as James ditched his controller and tackled the other boy, grabbing him into a full bodied hug. “You're such a dumbass, Sean.”

“I resent that!” Sean pouted as he brought his own arms up to wrap around James. “What's so funny?”

“Your weird sense of justice.” James pulled back. “Why are you punishing the others for something they don't have a part in?”

“I just told you - “

“Yeah, and I heard you. And its something a _dumbass_ would say.  Look this thing between Bruce and I, it's going to get ugly. We're both going to end up saying some really hurtful things to each other before this is all sorted through, but we're working on it okay? And as much as I appreciate your support man, I really do. This is something I gotta do; this is something between me and Bruce. The other guys didn't call him out on it, because I think they understand that.” He reached out to lock his hand with Sean's. “What you're doing? It's sweet. But right now they're confused, and you're only hurting yourself and them over something silly. I'll be okay, Bruce will be okay – but don't let our bullshit get in the way of your happiness.”

Sean squeezed his hand reflexively, though he was still frowning.

“It shouldn't be that simple.”

“It won't be, but you shouldn't make it complex either.” 

James leaned forward to lick a long stripe up Sean's cheek. “James what the fuck?” he shrilled.

“Oh sorry, I was trying to speak puppy.” He tugged at Sean's hand again. “Come on Puppy Spoole! What did I say?”

“That you have a gross licking fetish.”

“Maybe for you.”

This had Sean laughing again, even as he tried to wipe his cheek clean on his shirt. “You're so lame. You're not even this bad when you're drunk.”

James grinned at that. “You see, number one reason why you need to make up with the boys; how do you get any booze if Lawrence isn't buying for you?”

“I'm twenty-two – oh _fuck you_ James.”

 

+.+

 

>you have a hopefully apologetic puppy coming your way fyi

>>he was fine, you didn't have to say anything.

>oh b e l i e v e me brucie,

>when we finally talk about this there will be PLENTY of anger to go around. it shouldnt be coming from SPOOLE though 

>>i dont think what he was doing could be even called anger

>>maybe extreme pouting

>intense disappointment 

>'bitch get your life together' guilt trip

>>?? who are you calling a bitch??

>oh sorry, its the royal “bitch.” ya know, the bitch in us all

>>james.

>that's totally a thing im not at all making up

>bitch

>let him deal with the other guys though

>>i wasn't gonna say shit.

>ur always so reliable

 

+/+

 

>>hey are you okay tonight?

>as far as booty calls go, this is by far the least inspired

>>I meant because of the forecast idiot.

>ahhh

 

>i suppose that is valid

>>either you come to ours or we go to yours. your choice.

>you're the ones with a car ASS

>also 'we' as in the entire mystery inc or as in ... ?

>>peake

>ahhh

 

James had been half expecting Bruce to text him once he had noticed the clouds rolling in the sky. Despite how naturally overcast the city usually once, largely due to the frightening amount of pollution the city generated, James had come to recognize when the darker ones more indicative of a storm rolled in.

It was a silly fear, and fear might have been too harsh of a label, but James did not enjoy storms. He blamed it on part to growing up in the midwest, where dark clouds covering the endless, normally clear blue sky served a much more intimidating obstacle. California, especially in the southern areas of the state, rarely had storms that could rival the magnitude of what he grew up with. Though, even knowing this, the stigma remained for James.

Bruce, of course, was aware of this, having lived with James.

When it had been Then, the two would curl into each other on their ratty sofa, or bury under the warm covers of their bed. Then, they would distract themselves with the exploration of each others' bodies, the nights full of laughter and learning. As fondly as James recalled Then, he didn't have any misconception about what Bruce's intentions were now. The man would probably offer to play some bullshit game he knew James didn't care for, or choose a

 

>>We're here. Let us up.

 

Receiving the text from Matt, James slipped on a hoodie as he descended the stairs of his apartment building. He pushed open the outer door of the apartment and his eyes quickly found where the two had parked. Matt was already out of the car, making his way to where James stood even as a light drizzle of way began to fall.

 

James glanced past Matt to where Bruce's car was idling at the curb. Even in the hazy dusk light, James could make out Bruce's features behind the steering wheel. "It was either go to yours or make you come to ours. We both figured you'd be more comfortable here," Matt greeted softly, bringing James attention back to himself. Leaning against the door frame, James smiled at him. “Is he planning on coming up?”

“He didn't know if you'd appreciate it.”

“Then you better tell the asshole to park his car and get his butt inside before I change my mind," James felt listless. He could blame it on a long week of work that had left him ready for a night where he fall asleep without having to set an alarm for the next day, but that would be disregarding the Bruce related situation looming over him. Hanging out and texting Bruce before, that was one thing. It had actually been going well, going on the increasingly more frequent lunch dates with just the two of them. But here he was, letting the man back into his home, the one last safety net he had. James didn't know how to feel, like there was no right answer to the situation and that maybe there weren't any wrong ones either. 

James was naturally a straightforward guy; if he could bulldoze his way straight through a problem to find his solution, he would. He didn't like Bruce had made him unsure of, well, unsure of a lot of things. He used to consider himself confident. Self assured. James couldn't find where all of that went into hiding, and had begun to wonder that side of him still existed anymore. James blinked, realizing that Matt had not replied to him and he turned his gaze from where it had fallen upon the source of his mental agony instead peering at Matt. He felt a spike of confusion as to why the short man looked upon him with soft eyes and a small upturn to his lips. It was a look he had come to associate to when Matt was feeling unusually affectionate. "What?" 

"You're finally growing up, kid." James didn't know how to respond to that at first; Matt never failed to make James feel both so unbelievably young and yet so unbearably old at the same time. For lack of a proper response, James fell back on something rote. James deliberately pitched his voice small, teasing with a small grin as he replied "I learned from the best, _daddy_ " He took the wide- eyed surprise on Matt's face as a huge fucking victory, before the seldom-startled man quickly narrowed his eyes in promise.

"You'll be paying for that James."

"Oh, really? Should I be scared-" they're both smiling when a jolt of lightening brightens the sky in a flash of light, starting James mid-sentence. He jumped, visibly unsettled even as thunder rumbled lowly in the distance. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, an angry huff. He hated how out of control he was feeling, how unsettled he felt even when he told his brain it was a ridiculous thought. His mind had frozen, whiting out briefly as he sorted out his disconnected thoughts. A soft hand at the small of his back draws James back to the present. Bruce is approaching them from where he had parked his car, a frown on his face as he watched the two of them. James didn't know what he looked like, but he could guess it was something like a mess from the way Matt was eying him carefully. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes harshly in his frustration.

He just really wanted to go the fuck to bed

"Come on scaredy cat," Bruce called, "let's go inside.”

“Go suck a cock.” He threw out immediately, letting Bruce nudge him aside to open the door he had been standing in front of.

“Are you offering?”

“Boys, _really_.”

“Sorry, _dad_.” Matt doesn't even bother to designate a reply to that as he bumped into James with his shoulder.

Bruce, however, raised a questioning eyebrow as he held the door for the other two. “I don't think I want to know, do I?”

“I don't know what you mean,” James intoned politely as he lead them inside.

Bruce laughed. “You're so full of shit, James. I don't deserve to be talked down to by someone scared of some clouds.”

“Coming from a guy who is scared of toddlers? Yeah, okay. Also it's electricity in the sky that goes boom every other minute, fuck you very much.”

“For the last time, I'm not scared of babies James.”

“Hmm if you say so.”

“I do! I do say so!”

James only laughs as he let the two of them into his room. Matt was familiar with the building, having spent ample amount of time hanging out in the apartment just the two of them, but it was Bruce's first time and James could tell the man was looking around the place with interest.

He wondered what the man was thinking, but when he finally spoke after running his eyes around the small one bedroom apartment, it was the last thing James thought he would hear.

“I was expecting a cat.”

“I'm sorry?” Its not a joke, from what he can tell. Bruce is looking at him with clear eyes, a genuine question in them.

“From what Matt had told us, I was expecting you to have a cat.”

“What?” He turned to look at where Matt had made himself comfortable in his kitchen, grabbing a bottle of juice from his small refrigerator.

“When I first met you,” Matt answered easily, not having the same confusion as James was currently experiencing. “You were debating the merits of Purina, or something like that.”

“Oh,” James could feel his cheeks begin to heat up. As someone who was nine parts shameless, he didn't embarrass easily but even James could admit that had been a low moment for him. “Bruce, you know I'm a dog person.”

When he turned to look at Bruce, the older man was smiling. It was, well, it was the same satisfied smile Bruce had been wearing when they first saw each other all those weeks ago and it brought back the same uncertainty it had inspired then also.

“Yeah, I know you are.”

There's a moment there, when James and Bruce locked gazes that James won't be able to explain later. It was silly, to think back on it, but all he can remember is the light sound of rainfall hitting the roof, the dim flickering of the lights overhead, the warm knot at the pit of his stomach. James opened his mouth, locked in the steady gaze of a man he had loved so much – and if he was being honest, knew that he had never stopped – he opened his mouth and realized _I'm going to say something horrible_. He wasn't usually one to self censor but the thought that he was going to ruin this, that _he had to ruin this_ , had him standing frozen; he could only look away and close his mouth with a small sigh.

“Come on hotshot,” Matt interrupted, fitting himself into the silence that had dragged on too long between them. “Let's get you to bed.”

Matt herds him from the spot where he is rooted to the carpet with a hand on his shoulder. Its easier for him to let Matt lead; if he fought, he knew that the can of worms he and Bruce were sitting on would be blown wide open.

James was no way prepared for that to happen, tonight while the storm already had him so off base.

It's only when Matt had lead him nearly all the way down his meager hallway, to the door of his bedroom when he remembered something important.

“Where are you two going to sleep?” He asked.

“Bruce is taking the couch,” Matt answered easily.

“You guys discussed this earlier?”

“Of course.” Matt Peake was a sneaky bastard. James had realized this during their first meeting, but sometimes he had to just sit back and appreciate what a conniving and wonderful bastard he was.

James turned around at the sound of Matt guided him into his room, shutting the door behind the both of them. The storm was louder now, and James welcomed the distraction from both the furious sky outside his apartment and the man currently inhabiting his living room. Matt didn't bother with any pleasantries, he said a simple “Get on the bed” before shucking off his shoes into the corner of the room.

“Wow, okay Captain Presumptuous; make yourself at home,” James snarked, feeling restless. The shorter man just pulled his patent eyebrow raise at James as he crossed the room. Matt trapped him against the side of his bed, one arm reached out to tap against James' chest. “Come on Matty, use your words.” James said with a smirk as he allowed himself to be pushed down onto the bed. As Matt joined him, pushing James until he was satisfied with his position, the two of them lying on their sides facing each other.

“You know what they say about making assumptions, James.”

James found himself smirking. “Something about making an ass.. that's all I could take away from it honestly.”

“You're incorrigible,” Matt had reached up to rest his hand on James' cheek, gently guiding his face down to meet his own. They stayed that way for an infinite number of seconds, wrapped in each other on his bed with their lips moving together. James let himself get lost in it; in Matt's hands, one still pressing ever so lightly onto the flesh of his cheek while the other had danced along the cut of his jaw before it finally settled, catching in the short hairs on the back of his head. When Matt pulls away, the need for air letting itself be known, James could feel himself exhale shakily, a whine barely held in the back of his throat.

“You're eager tonight,” James breathed out, a poor attempt at humor that somehow still had Matt smiling.

“Do you even stop talking?” He asked, leaning closer – James didn't know how he did so, as wrapped around each other as they were, and yet they had managed to get even closer, Matt's lips dragging against James'. James hummed into Matt's mouth, half in pleasure at the dry slide of their lips together and half in reply as he pulled away slightly to respond.

“Only if you make me.”

“Not tonight,” and man, how he managed to make that sound like both a comfort and a promise was new to James. He hadn't realized his hand had been moving until Matt caught it, interrupting it's way to Matt's face. Instead he lowered it, settling Jame's hand against his hip. “Sean has been bragging about being the first one to get you in bed.”

It took James a minute, as he traced the dip of Matt's hipbone lightly with his fingertips, before he realized what he had been referring to. “At Lawrence's house?” James laughed as Matt's lips moved to the corner of his mouth so he could speak. “I mean, yeah we slept together on his shitty bed. Spoole did an incredible impersonation of an octopus – a really cute one, don't get me wrong – but I still don't understand how he could cling that much, he only has two arms and two legs it makes no sense.”

“He was ridiculously proud of himself for that,” Matt huffed against him.

“And what? You're jealous?” James grinned into the side of his face, pleased. “Do tell me more. Do the others know about your devious plan to have bed make-outs with me?”

Matt rolled the two of them over, so that he was sitting up on James, straddling his hips. James brought his other hand up so that he could bracket Matt's waist on both sides, steadying him. "You know he loves you right?” Matt was running his hand down James' chest, dragging the zipper of his hoodie down so that he could trace lines over his thin t-shirt.

“I could be sleeping right now, that sounds infinitely more appealing than having this conversation.”

“Then pretend you're dreaming.”

“I don't sleep talk.”

“How would you know?”

“Fair point.” He grunted as Matt dragged a finger up over his chest, following the line of his neck until his hand had once again reached to draw lightly over his face. He tapped James' cheek twice, a silent request to cut the bullshit and answer the question.

"This is your boyfriend we're talking about here so no. I really don't.” James closed his eyes as Matt began to trace his eyelids softly. He let his thumbs dip beneath the soft cotton of Matt's shirt, his thumbs making idle circles into the other man's skin. For all intents, the situation should have felt sexual, and James had no doubt that with anyone else that would have been the extent of it, but here with Matt. It was a intimate and it was a comfort, the knowledge that Matt didn't expect anything from him and wouldn't ask for anything he wouldn't be willing to give.

"I'm quite aware of that fact, yes. And I'm also aware that we both know that isn't the real issue here, so out with it. What's eating at you?”

James doesn't mean to sound petulant, but he knows he does when his reply slipped out, “Why do you care so much?”

“Because, believe it or not, I do love Bruce and want him to be happy.”

“Good, that's... good.” And it was. Because not matter how angry he was at Bruce and no matter what had happened between them in the past, James felt with his whole heart that the man deserved to be happy. Deserved to be loved and in love, even if that was with someone - or someones - who weren't James.

"Life works in funny ways sometimes. No matter what reason Bruce walked away the first time, I know without a doubt that's he's here to stay now.” James doesn't know what to feel about that, the implication Matt was trying to drill into his mind. He thanks whatever higher power there is that Bruce isn't in the room with him, because with his guards so far lowered he doesn't think he could bear anyone other than Matt hearing him so vulnerable.

“How do I even know he wants me?”

“Oh my god, you both are hopeless" His eyes pop open when he heard Matt's annoyed groan.

“It was a valid question!” He tried to defend even as Matt leaned up to leave a quick kiss on James' brow, before he rolled off the bed onto his feet.

"Why do I even try to speak sense to you assholes when you obviously don't appreciate my hard work" He groused but in James' not too humble opinion it sounded like a very fond grouse.

“You're a shameless tease!” James calls after him as he watched Matt trudge his way from the room before finally rolling onto his back. He could still hear the thunder rumbling outside still, but it was much softer than it had been previously. He hadn't even noticed it, Matt's presence distracting him completely as the storm moved away. He sighed, covering his eyes into the crook of his elbow; Matt's questioning had him ponder things he'd rather leave not pondered.

But he supposed that was probably the whole point of the exercise.

 

When Matt slipped back into the room some time later, James was on the cusp of sleep, brought back to a groggy awareness by the click of his door and the dip of his mattress. "Thought you were sleeping with Bruce" he mumbles out, barely audible even as Matt slipped under the sheets next to him, wrapping an arm around James' chest.

"I'd much rather take the soft bed, thank you. I know where that man has been," He whispered into the top of James' head, pulling the pliant man onto him.

"It is much too late for words. Or is it early? It's probably early. Much too early for words"

"Then shut up, muscle head" Matt laughed into his ear, the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat under James' head and his warm presence a comfort at his side.

James lost track after that, falling asleep seconds or hours later, only aware of the soft patter of rain on the window and the warm body lying next to him.

If he dreams about a lonely couch, it's forgotten by the morning.

 

James wasn't certain what woke him up at first.

 

The room was still pitch black, no light coming from the small window the bedroom featured. It looked as though rain still fell outside, though it was a silent, gentle fall that spoke to the aftermath of the previous storm that had James so on edge. So he figured, in the hazy post sleep fuzz that had his brain straining to keep conscious, the weather wasn't what woke him. He could here a soft, “Hey,” come from behind him. Turning to look over his shoulder, it took a moment for James' eyes to adjust in the darkness. Matt still had an arm wrapped around him, besides him on the bed, but he was wide awake, with a fully dressed Bruce leaning down to talk to him. Their words were soft, but their faces were tense. Despite the muddle of his post-sleep brain, it spikes an immediate alarm to James' system, his body immediately becoming alert.

“James, go back to sleep.” Bruce states softly. James realized he had a phone in one hand that he had brought down to cover the receiver on his chest; James didn't have a clock but he could bet that it was still in the small hours of dawn.

“What's going on?” He sits up slowly, his body still uncoordinated and clumsy.

“Everything's fine, James,” Matt replied, his arm tightening around him. “Bruce.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm going.” Bruce squeezed Matt's shoulder before leaning over and planting a peck on James' forehead. And then he was turning around, leaving the room with James staring dumbly after him.

Coming back to himself, James quickly stumbled out of the bed; clumsy in his panic, in a way he couldn't remember ever feeling. All he could think about was the image imprinted in his mind, of Bruce walking out the door; of James never being able to see those broad shoulders again. He ignored Matt's short, “James!” he couldn't even process that the call in his efforts to race after Bruce.

“Bruce!” He can't tell if its a whisper or a shout with his blood humming in his ears. Ultimately, both James and Bruce had known that their polite impasse would break down. As the words leave James' lips he knows that this was it. They couldn't avoid this argument any longer.

“Turn around and talk to me for once, or you're going to make a mistake we can _not_ come back from.”

Bruce actually listens – thank god – and turns from where he's halfway to the front door. “Where are you going?”

“James -” James takes a step back as Bruce reaches forward in what was probably a gesture of comfort, but James didn't - couldn't - accept that. Not now, not after what Bruce had put him through.

"You have no right," he started but cuts himself off. He never had planned on having this row in front of Matt, or any of the other boys, but after holding in these emotions for so long they had a mind of their own. James had no ability to censor himself at the moment and hated that it had the chance of getting ugly between the two of them. As if understanding this, Matt crossed the room from behind James, reaching for Bruce to take the phone out of his hand.

“I'll handle this,” he called softly, raising the phone to his ear even after he retreated back to the solitude of James' bedroom.

James crossed his arms over his chest defensively, now that Bruce had his full attention. "You have no right to deny my anger at you right now. "

"James," Bruce started again but James cut him off, unable to stop the word flow now that he had started.

"It's just so fucked up, " James was proud at how steady his voice came out, even at the feeling of a vice gripping his throat. "So completely fucked that you can stand here and not understand how much it ruins me just to see you. To see you almost walk away again."

This time, when Bruce stepped forward to slowly bridge the gap between the two of them, he kept his arms loose at his side, even though there was still a tension in his his shoulders. "Then tell me. Help me understand."

"I wasn't enough. I realize that for whatever your justifications are, whatever made sense in your head at the time, it was because I wasn't enough. I see you, I see the boys, and I know I _can't have that._ I see them and I can't help but think they're good." he laughed mirthlessly at this, felt the warm slide of tears start to make tracks down his cheeks. God he hadn't cried in years, it burned to realize just how much this had been eating at him. "They're funny, cute, intelligent; all things that keep you there. They keep you grounded where I couldn't. I wasn't enough and when I see them I get so jealous Bruce. Jealous that these boys are good enough but not me. I'm not," he sounded hysterical now, he knew. He wasn't even sure if he was making sense at this point; his voice caught on the last syllable. "Why wasn't I enough Bruce? It ruins me, thinking that."

Bruce wasn't moving, his face frozen in his own form of grief that James can't let himself understand. James knew that Bruce was letting him get it out, didn't want to interrupt and put James on the defensive. They knew that this was important. They both knew that this needed to happen before there was even a possibility of moving on, and they both knew it would be painful but seeing his hurt only broke James' heart even more.

"I want to hate you. So badly, Bruce. And I guess I do in a way, I hate you but mostly I just hate myself for loving you" He was finally cut off by a pair of lips sealing onto his own. It was Bruce, cradling his head in both hands as he leaned down to inhale into James mouth. It wasn't passionate, it wasn't pretty; it was action borne of an undeniable need. James just - let go. His arms fell from where they had been crossed defensively across his chest to grip tightly into the material of Bruce's shirt. _Holy shit_ he thought as he pressed into Bruce, their kiss turned less frantic into something more deep, more passionate. _Holy shit_ he thought as Bruce gently ran a caress down his cheek, sliding his hand to the back of his neck in order to cradle his head more fully. _Holy shit_ he thought. _this is lovely_ he thought _what the fuck are we doing_ he thought and then Bruce's other hand drawled him closer by the hip; he felt the faintest ghost of a tongue on his lips and he couldn't think anymore.

 

When they part, James slowly opened his eyes - when did he close them? He couldn't - to find Bruce staring into his face, arms still wrapped across his neck and waist, his expression just as broken as James felt himself. "Fuck you," he whispers, the heat from the moment before completely gone.

"Be my guest," Bruce rallied back at him and they both shared a soft huff of laughter, barely more than an exhale.

"We're such a mess."

"Fuck yeah, you are," and James actually jumped a little at that, pulling farther away from Bruce because until the interjection he had actually forgotten Matt was even in the apartment, he had been too too caught up. “I'm sorry for the timing but we _do_ have to go.”

It felt as if he had dumped a bucket of ice water over James' head. It was a sudden and painful reminder of what had set this off in the first place. “I'm going with you.”

“What- no!” Bruce is adamant. “I understand that this is going to hurt you James, but this isn't something you can help with. Its not even something you should know about.”

“Then what's the point, Bruce? Why are you even here? Why is Matt here? Why do any of you give me a fucking ounce of your time only to prove I'm not worthy of even the smallest amount of trust?”

“I don't want to hurt you again.”

“Too late on that, asshole.”

“Boys,” Matt interrupted, his face grim. “Just tell him Bruce, it was going to come out anyways.”

“Matt, we've had this discussion - “

“Yes, and you know my stance on the issue. Tell him.”

Bruce rubs at his head roughly, his frustration palpable. “I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“Then let Adam tell him. Damn it Bruce, you can't pretend that this wasn't an eventuality.”

“I'm still here you know.”

Bruce turned to James at this, reached over to pull James into another brief kiss. “Can you wait for answers until we get to Adam's place? I promise, we'll tell you everything there.”

James looked between the two men, at their serious expressions and swallows the lump at his throat that wanted to scream 'no. give me all the answers now.' Instead he just nods, and accepts the hoodie and shoes that matt threw at him before they made their way out of the apartment.

He hadn't been kidding when he thought that it was a ridiculously early hour of the morning; the sun hadn't even risen yet and the world outside was quiet and dark.

“We're picking up Spoole,” Matt called to Bruce as the man slid behind the wheel. Matt guided James into the back seat and slid in next to him. The backstreets of Los Angeles were dead at night, the only light coming from the soft head beams of Bruce's car and the flickering of the unreliable street lamps above head. There was a brief flash of light as a car turned onto the road behind them before the world darkens once more. James must have been fidgeting in the oppressive silence because Matt reached over to wrap his hand tightly around James' own.

“Toss me The Brick,” Matt called up to Bruce softly, even as he smiled at James. Bruce leaned over the middle console of the car to dig into the glove compartment. Just as James began to worry about how long Bruce was ignoring the road in favor of getting Matt's brick thing, Bruce leaned back up and threw something heavy into Matt's lap before returning his attention to the wheel. The Brick, as it turned out, was a cell phone that looked more like something Inspector Gadget would have than an actual phone. Getting quickly bored of watching Matt type into the device, James turned to watch the world outside slide past the window.

"Are you seeing this?" Matt asked suddenly, his voice low as James realized he had been drifting off. They were on a busier road now, three rows of traffic steadily making its way in the dead of night. Matt squeezed his hand once before dropping it, and turned in his seat so he was completely facing the rear window.

”I was hoping it was a coincidence," Bruce muttered, merging the car into the middle lane.

“What is it?” James asked, heart in his throat. For a moment neither man responded; Matt's eyes fixed out the window, eyes barely stopping to blink. Bruce's own face is one of concentration, as if he was figuring out the most complicated math equation and trying to refrain from using his fingers to count. "What is it?" James asked again, refusing to back down.

Matt finally blinked, turning his head to examine him. “James,” he said as Bruce spoke up from the front seat.

"Babe, I need you to listen to me, okay." In the rear view mirror, James mets Bruce's eyes as they slid upwards from the road, locking with his baby blues before returning his full attention to what was before him. "Okay?" he repeated, James' distraction causing him not to respond immediately

"Yeah, Bruce," James swallowed at the lump in his throat. "In the trust of full transparency, I'm really fucking freaked out right now."

"I know baby, I know," Bruce doesn't look at him again, but Matt reached out to flick his nose. Something was wrong, he didn't know what but something was very wrong. Matt tugged the hood of his jacket up over his head, pulling slightly at the drawstrings. James reached up to grab his hands tightly within his own before they could fall away. Even though Matt placates him and allows him the comfort, it doesn't do much to ease his tensions. After a moment, Matt bridges the silence once more.

“Spoole's ready. I told him we'd be there in five.”

“Good.”

James' confusion only built as they drove past the street of Sean's apartment, instead pulling onto another side road many streets over. Bruce finally slows down when they approach a seemingly random bus stop. The sole inhabitant stood up as they pulled over, and even with the hat pulled down low over his head James can recognize it to be Spoole.

“Hey guys – James?” He hopped into the front passenger seat, immediately spotting James in the back. “Matt, when you told me it was a code red you didn't say _James_ was a part of this.” He was mad, James thought with a bit of humor. _Join the fucking club_.

“We're not having this argument right now, Spoole.” Bruce sounded tired, but Sean didn't seem to care.

“When are we supposed to have it?”

Matt heaved a sigh. “We'll have plenty of opportunity to hash this out tonight, Spoole. But let's give the others the courtesy of being there.” This seems to appease some of the boy's nerves, so Matt continued. "How long do you think they've been tailing us?"

Bruce frowned. "I don't know"

"Do you recognize them from before the apartment?"

"I don't fucking know Matt." Unsatisfied, Matt turned to James and even still holding his hand James can't find any comfort from him. Matt is more serious now than James thought him capable to be – which is pretty damn serious – but even when he and Bruce were fighting he was still warm. This, this version of Matt he could feel nothing but frozen solid by the atmosphere now suffocating the car.

"Do you recognize it?" Blinking at him, realizing that the older man was talking to him, James just shook his head.

"I have no idea what the fuck you both are talking about"At this Matt's expression softened a little, he smiled, barely there but it succeeded in bleeding some of the worry from James' stomach. "The Adder, two cars back, left lane. Have you seen it before?" James doesn't know what his face must look like, but Matt added softly "It's okay if you don't remember James."

James turned around, trying to pick out the car. At first it was difficult because traffic in Los Angeles is never slow, but they're stuck in the heat of early morning commuters with all three lanes moving at a snails' pace. It was flashy, but nothing new to the LA scene. It was a silver sports car that James wouldn't have given any unique interest if not for the stiff and worrying behavior of his boys. "I'm not sure" he hedged, feeling Matt's eyes on the side of his head. He tried to feel anything but cold, but didn't succeed. "It doesn't jump out at me."

"Sweetheart, I need you to turn away from the window now, alright?"

It didn't sound like a request, even if it was pitched softly, a faux attempt at being normal even while James can see Bruce's strained grip on the steering wheel. Sean leaned forwards over the middle console and reached out to grip James leg, a knowing look on his face. "It's okay James, I know it's scary right now," his gaze slid once over James' shoulder before fixating back on the older man. "But we really need you to stay out of eyesight. I know you don't understand, and I promise we'll explain everything as soon as we get to Adams'. But right now know that we only have your safety in our thoughts. We don't want you on their radar, which means you'll have to stay low until we get some distance between these cars. Do you understand that much?"

James wanted laugh or cry, probably both, because Sean – Spoole! Of all people! – was talking to him slowly, as if James were a child easily confused by large words. He also kind of wanted to laugh-cry because what the fuck had he gotten himself involved in. He knew a seven person relationship would carry a certain amount of drama to it but this? This is a whole other level.

"Who's they?"

"just some guys who would love nothing more than to get some leverage on the rest of us."

"The last thing we wanted was to drag you into this, and if we can still somehow stop that, we will." Bruce added, jerking the car over another time, entering the far right lane. James turned, watching as the car Matt had pointed out drifted into the center lane. so what the car was following them? If it had been just one of the guys, he would have called it paranoia, or even a poorly chosen joke.

"So what, they're ultra bigots or something?"

Sean squeezed his leg once more, causing James to turn back around. "Not quite. Now, please James, we need you to get down." He doesn't know how they're driving in silence for, the only noise in the car from the buzz of the air conditioner and the soft tapping on Matt's phone. All he knows is that his back is beginning to get sore, his body aching to move when Matt finally called out "Okay, I'm ready."

It was the only warning James was given before Bruce slams on the gas, taking a sharp right the wrong direction onto a one way side road not at meant for Bruce's style of driving. "They're stuck at the light, hopefully too caught in the jam to make the lane switch. Even if they try to force their way over, that traffics not going to start shifting until two light cycles from now. I'd say the window is six minutes."

"Good job Matt" Bruce replied tightly, navigating the narrow road, before finally turning back onto a two way street, going the opposite direction he had previously. James' heart was thudding loudly in his chest; he huddles lower into his hoodie as Bruce drove his way through the winding streets as the sky turned a pale orange. By the time they finally reach their destination, the sun is peaking its way into the sky and the tensions from before have eased greatly. James realized that they had reached the rolling hills of West Hollywood as Bruce carefully navigated the old and winding roads up the mountainside. Sean was snoring softly against the window while James fidgeted nervously. Despite feeling exhausted from the roller coaster of a night he had had, he wasn't tired and watched on anxiously as Bruce pulled the car into a secluded driveway. The home was huge, which James had suspected once he realized where they were. It was a large Victorian, hidden behind a large fence and even larger foliage. James couldn't tell how close the next door neighbors were – although he assumed they did exist. It was impossible to tell.

Lawrence and Joel were waiting on the door step as they rolled to a stop in front of the home.

“Come on,” Joel just calls tiredly as they shuffle themselves out of the car, Bruce wrapping an arm around James' waist as he guided them forward. “Adam is waiting.” He and Lawrence lead the lot of them into the large home, traveling throughout the many rooms until they come across what looks to be a small living room. James felt sufficiently lost, he leaned into the comfort of Bruce right beside him. “For the record,” he whispered, even though he knew the others could hear him regardless. “I'm still super pissed at you.” Bruce laughed and James continued. “Like, we're talking monumental levels of pissed here.”

“I deserve it.” He acknowledged, even as the others settled into the many chairs that filled the room. He gave the room a cursory look over, and it didn't seem to be anything special. The only thing stood out was what was missing – Adam. As he opened his mouth to ask where the man was, Joel pulled out a laptop and pulled up a skype call. As the app booped to let the group know the call had been accepted, Adam's face came on the screen. With a few button presses, Joel had it projecting onto the larger tv that hung on the room's largely empty wall.

“Hey guys,” Adam seemed tired, his eyes a bright red that spoke of lost sleep. The others all chimed in their greetings in response, even as Adam's eyes focused onto where James sat wedged between Bruce and Sean. “Hey James. I hear tonight's been fun.”

It's a shitty joke, but it still had James smiling. “You can make it less shitty be telling me what's going on.” Bruce was squeezing his arm in reassurance while Sean had reached over to interlock their fingers., his thumb idly rubbing a soothing rhythm into his skin.

Adam smiled. “What do you know about Funhaus?”

 

-tbc-

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pain to edit so any errors are me getting lazy.
> 
> Now the fun can begin you guys! Sorry for the long wait between chapters, this one really got away from me and would not stop growing. I'll try to keep it more manageable for now on!  
> try being the key word...
> 
> As always thanks for reading <3 love you guys !

**Author's Note:**

> I’m extremely nervous posting this because not only is it my first RPS fic ever, but its also the first fan work I’ve written in over five years. so. I appreciate all feedback and criticisms! I know i need it! ///uwu\\\\\


End file.
